


White Houses

by bittlebunny (american_homos_story)



Series: Zimbits: The Musical [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Baker!Bitty, Coming Out, Drug Use, Eric is Confused, Eric is an emotional train wreck, Eventual Smut, First Crush, Fluff, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Injured!Jack, Inspired by Music, Jack Knew First, Jack is Unstable, Kinda, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Oblivious Eric, Pining, Slow Burn, Unhappy Ending, ill probably add more as i need, like you'll see don't worry, precious hockey gays, why are there so many gays in one house, zimbits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 112,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/american_homos_story/pseuds/bittlebunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric Bittle is just out of college and is moving into a house inhabited by a bunch of total strangers. The permanent lodgers include an artist, a law student, and an ex-hockey player, but they're often joined by old friends as well. Eric starts his job at the local bakery and begins to adjust to being an adult, but he learns that sometimes being an adult means acting like a complete child. He also develops his first crush and learns why people call it that. </p><p>or</p><p>Bitty never went to Samwell AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. crashed on the floor when i moved in

**Author's Note:**

> Work Inspired by: [White Houses by Vanessa Carlton](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SM3fEJyPrrg)
> 
> A huge thanks to [Jenrose](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenrose/pseuds/Jenrose) for being an amazing and dedicated beta; this fic wouldn't be as unified or polished without her help! Also, thanks to my good pal [Cocotte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chartreuser/pseuds/chartreuser) for being my biggest cheerleader and screaming about these boys with me on a daily basis. Finally, thank you to the #omgchatplease chat room for being so supportive and friendly, as well as putting up with my constant mentions of this damn fic <3  
> (There may be some weird discrepancies in comments, end notes, etc. due to the fact that 24 chapters of this fic were posted before they were even beta'd, so if a couple minor things don't make sense, that's why!)
> 
> [HERE](http://8tracks.com/sarzipanbatch/it-s-all-too-sweet-to-last) is a link to an 8tracks playlist of all the White Houses music, made by Tumblr user [sarzipanbatch](http://sarzipanbatch.tumblr.com)

Eric Bittle is a damn nervous wreck. That sort of applies to life in general, but never so much as at this moment. He's just graduated from Boston University with a degree in culinary arts. Then by some stroke of luck, in the course of a single week he’s managed to find a job and a place to stay not five minutes apart by car. Of course, he has some help from his parents, who are staying with him in his shitty little apartment in the city. They've been there since a few days before graduation and though the space is small, Eric is relieved that they're with him. Despite the fact that he's 22 years old—technically a real adult and everything—it's still nice to have some extra help and encouragement from the two people he trusts the most.

They’d planned to stay for a few days after graduation, and Eric’s original plan had been to take them sightseeing in Boston. The beginnings of summer in the Northeast are often accompanied by beautiful weather. However, when Eric had asked his mother for advice on what to do next with his life, she’d gone into full Mom Mode. Together they’d spent a few days looking online and in the papers—”Do people even read those anymore?” he’d asked her—for job opportunities. They’d managed to find an opening at a cute little bakery called Holly’s, just outside of Boston, and then by accident (or so his mother claims) an advertisement for an extra room in a house in the same neighborhood.

So as soon as he possibly can, Eric applies for the job and for the advertised room. He hears back from both within a few days. Is this what adulthood is like? There’s no way that everything could be this easy...

He tries not to think about it too much. He decides he's just going to accept what he gets and be grateful for it. That’s what his mama always taught him, anyway. There aren't very many goodbyes to be said; he doesn't have many friends, but the ones he does have are already scattered to the winds. Some have gone back home, others are celebrating by taking trips around the country or the world, but either way he’s already closed out that chapter of his life.

Eric’s parents are the epitome of helpful during the process of packing up his apartment, but their constant presence in such a small space makes him feel like he can’t breathe. They have a tendency to hover, his mama especially. Once all of his clothes and belongings are packed, the last thing Eric has to do is bake one last pie in his kitchen. He's lived in the apartment since his sophomore year, so he's grown fond of the occasional cockroach, the dust, even the way the third floorboard from the sink creaks when stepped on. He figures the least he can do is say goodbye with the scent of fresh baked goods. Plus, he’ll have something to bring to his new roommates.

His heart almost stops in his chest as he pulls the pie out of the oven. He realizes—he knows nothing about his new roommates. What if he hates them? What if _they_ hate _him_? What if they don't have a working oven? These are the important questions that consume him from the inside out, but he accepts that the only thing to do is to dive in and hope for the best.

Coach goes to the airport and rents a car; his parents' plan is to drop Eric off at the house, drive straight back to the airport, and get on a flight home. Everything is happening so quickly and Eric’s head is spinning, but he forces himself to pack all of his belongings and get in the passenger seat with the pie on his lap. It's still warm, and radiates a smell that makes his mouth water. The drive to the house isn't long, but the closer they get, the more the knot in Eric’s chest tightens. He's about to start a completely new chapter of his life. He doesn't feel remotely ready, but he also knows he can't turn back now. His father offers half-hearted advice from the backseat every few minutes, but Eric is too nervous for it to register.

Finally, they pull into the driveway of the house. It's a fairly small 2-story building, off-white and shabby. The house sits on the far-left corner of the street, and there's a fence separating it from the house to the right, plus a cute, weathered little front porch. The front yard isn't much, just a patch of dry, brown grass and a cracked stone path leading up to the steps, but the backyard looks better kept. Eric tentatively gets out of the car and walks along the side of the house, peeking over the fence to get a better look. There are sliding glass doors—obviously newer than the rest of the house—that lead out to a small stone patio that surrounds a fire pit. A single tree grows in the back corner of the yard.

Eric’s parents are already unloading Eric’s few possessions from the car, and his father is too proud to make more than one trip. Coach piles up the boxes precariously and takes them up to the porch. Eric’s mom just shakes her head and follows.

Eric rings the bell.

He hears someone run to the door, and it swings open, revealing an Asian girl even smaller than Eric. In fact, she’s just about the same height as his mama.

“Uh, hi? You are?” she asks. Before Eric can answer, her eyes catch the boxes that the Bittles are setting next to them on the porch and widen a little.

“Oh, shit. Dude, you must be the new guy, right?”

Eric nods, smiling a little uneasily. The girl mutters under her breath as she looks back into the house. “I’m _so_ gonna kill Shitty for this. He should’ve given us a damn heads up.” Then she walked a few steps in and yelled, “ _SHITTY_! Get your ass down here!” She then turns back to the Bittles and smiles, though the gesture is obviously a little forced.

“So, um, hi, um, I guess. Nice to meet you! I’m Lardo. Sorry, Larissa Duan. My friend and I can help you with those. I assume these are the parentals?” She gestures to Eric’s parents.

Eric nods again. What had she called herself? Had she referred to her friend as “shitty” instead of a name?

“Dude, do you talk? I know, like, very minimal sign language so if you’re Deaf or something, that could be an issue, and...”

“No, I-I talk!” Eric stammers.

The girl laughs. Eric’s mother puts a hand on his shoulder and swivels him around so they both face away from the house.

“Dicky, are you sure about this? It’s not too late to change your mind,” she says, her voice lowered.

“Mother, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine! Get along now, I don’t want y’all to miss that flight home!”

She sighs. “Alright, but you call us if you need something, y’hear? You just know that until we know that you’re happy and safe, we’ll both be worried sick.”

He rolls his eyes a little, then sighs and kisses her on the cheek. His father pulls him into a tight hug and says, “Take care of yourself, son. Your mother and I are real proud of you, y’know?”

He nods and his dad gives him a firm pat on the shoulder. “Well alright then, I guess we’ll be off. Call us if you–”

“I know, I know! Don’t you worry. I’m gonna be just fine! Shoo!”

He watches as his parents get back in the car and drive away, leaving him feeling a little alone on the porch with the pile of his belongings. The girl must have gone back into the house while Eric talked with his parents, because he can hear more banging and yelling from inside the house. He holds tight to his still-warm pie and gingerly enters the house.

The floor plan is open; immediately upon entering the house Eric can see through into the kitchen. There's a small square table, a counter that runs along the left wall, and the far wall is dominated by the sliding glass doors he’d seen from the outside. There is, in fact, an oven. It looks fairly old, but even with a quick glance he can see it’s in working condition. Immediately to the left of the door is a small bathroom, and to the right is a little bench underneath a window, covered in pillows and blankets. Beyond that is a wide open room, with all the space of a living room, dining room and den at once, sparsely furnished with some chairs and a couch, and Eric can hear a TV. The couch looks like somebody has been sleeping on it recently.

Eric continues walking through the house, still hearing pounding and yelling from upstairs. Next to the area with the couch and chairs, through an open door, he can see a room in disastrous condition. Bookshelves line the walls and a desk with a computer sits in front of a window at the far end of the room. Open books and papers litter the floor. The next room over appears to be a bedroom, covered in art supplies and posters. This room is also a catastrophe. Food wrappers, paintings, and more books are strewn about the floor.

He starts toward the stairs, but nearly runs into the girl as she stomps angrily down. The pie wobbles in his hands but he manages to make sure it doesn't drop.

“Shit, sorry dude! Whoa, is that pie? Christ, it smells amazing...Alright, so here’s what’s happening, we–”

She isn't able to continue. Since she's still on the bottom step, she's directly in the way of the mustachioed man barreling down the stairs. Eric jumps backwards and cries out as they collide and crash to the floor.

“ _FUCKING HELL, SHITTY_! Watch where you’re going, would you?"

“I’m not the one who decided the stairs were a good place to have nice little chat!”

“It wasn’t my fault, _you’re_ the one who–”

Eric clears his throat. They both look up at him and the girl blinks slowly, as if trying to remember why Eric was there. “Right. Sorry. We’ll help you with your stuff now. Did I introduce myself earlier? Can’t remember. Name’s Larissa, but you can call me Lardo.”

“Are you sure? That doesn’t bother you at all?”

She laughs but doesn't answer as she helps the man up. He grumbles and yanks his hand out of hers to shake Eric’s. “Shitty Knight, pleasure to meet you, uh...Ernie, was it?”

“Eric. Eric Bittle. Uh, is Shitty really your first–”

“Hold on, your last name is _Bitty_? Dude, the chirping for that is gonna be relentless.” Shitty looks him up and down, obviously referring to Eric’s stature.

Eric scowls. “Bit _tle,_ ” he repeats, putting extra emphasis on the second syllable. And what the hell is chirping?

Shitty frowns. “Oh. I think I like Bitty better, it’s cute! Suits you. Alright, so while Lardo starts bringing in the boxes–” she interjects with _hey!_ but he holds up a hand to quiet her and continues, “-I’ll explain the deal.”

“The deal?”

“Yeah you know, the situation.”

“There’s a situation?”

Lardo rolls her eyes. “Just spit it out, Shits.” She goes back out to the porch while Shitty explains.

“Ok, so we weren’t expecting you for another week, so there kinda isn’t a room for you, _yet_...” He scratches the back of his head and smiles awkwardly.

“I don’t have a room?”

“Well, you do, really! It’s just, uh, _occupado_.” Eric starts to say something, outraged, but Shitty adds, “ _For now!”_

Eric rubs his temples and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to stay calm. “The advertisement said–”

Lardo steps inside carrying a few boxes. She sets them down, saying, “Yeah, he knows what it said, but he wasn’t expecting anyone to answer it so quickly. Plus our _guests_ ,” she says the word through gritted teeth, “were not exactly planned. Whatever. Either way, Shitty is an idiot. He didn’t even tell me that somebody answered the ad in the first place.” She shoots him a glare and he shrugs.

“I’m a busy dude! Lots on my mind!”

Lardo crosses the room, playfully elbows Shitty in the ribs, and says. “Ok so let’s think about this. Parse is in this guy’s room, you’re on the couch, Shitty, Rans and Holtz are in your room. The office is a wreck,” she glares at him again, “and my room is too messy for one person, let alone two...Fuck. That means–”

“We put him with Jack!” Shitty says, cheerfully. Lardo looks worried.

“Who’s Jack?”

Lardo sighs. “An old friend of ours from college. All of us went to school together actually, except Parse. Anyway, he’s kinda...the most difficult human you’ll ever meet. I hate to do this to you, but I think it’s the only option for now?” She asks that last bit like a question, directed towards Shitty. He nods.

Eric shrugs, not bothered. “I’m easy to get along with. Shouldn’t be a lick of trouble!”

Lardo sighs again. “Shitty, you’re his best bro or whatever. You tell him.”

The cheer drains from Shitty’s face. “Do you think I have a death wish? I think it’ll be safer if Bitty introduces himself, you know? Jack won’t misbehave around a stranger! Probably.”

Lardo shakes her head. “Sounds like a Shitty idea if I ever heard one. Plus, you’ve got me on box duty, remember?”

Shitty groans. “First, fifty points from Slytherin for that atrocious pun. Second, I’ll do it, but I’m taking Bitty with me.”

Eric huffs. “It’s _Bittle_ , not Bitty!”

Shitty winks at him. “Not anymore, it isn’t! Put that pie down and follow me. You’re about to meet the grumpiest French-Canadian this side of the equator.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok here's the deal! I already have all 25 chapters of this fic planned out, but NOT yet written. I get nervous when publishing the first chapter of a long fic before any of it is done, but hopefully it'll motivate me to keep writing it so I don't leave an unfinished fic hanging around.  
> Each chapter has a song that goes with it too! Because I'm extra like that. Also if you already know the song White Houses by Vanessa Carlton then you may be able to very vaguely makes guesses about the plot but even if you know the song I hope you enjoy either way! I'll probably add a little playlist to the end of every new chapter just so everybody can keep track of all the songs and whatnot. IDK this is all a mess I haven't written long fanfiction in so long so this could end up a complete disaster I guess we'll see!
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton


	2. if you're out there i swear to be good to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Dear No One by Tori Kelly](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njmCUJ94lUM)

Shitty chatters on as he leads Eric up the stairs, obviously not at all thrown by the presence of a new person in the house. Eric isn't really listening, though, mostly he’s just taking in the new surroundings.

The house is shaped like a backwards L. The longer part of the second floor is lined with bookshelves. Eric stops and runs his hand along some of the books, jumping a little as Shitty turns back to him and addresses him directly.

“ _Bitty._ Did you hear me?”

Eric shakes his head, smiling nervously. “Sorry, you lost me about halfway up the stairs.”

Shitty chuckles and wraps an arm around Eric’s shoulder. “S’okay, I know I can ramble a bit sometimes. And you’ll have to excuse all the books, I’m an avid reader and a law student so I keep a fuckton of lit lying around.”

“You? A law student?” It comes out a little more surprised than Eric means it to. Luckily, Shitty takes it all in stride.

“Yeah, I get that reaction a lot honestly. I live to surprise! S’why I keep the flow and the ‘stache.”

Eric nods. “Where do you go to school?”

Shitty’s face lights up with pride. “Harvard Law, my dude. Great school, and the Legally Blonde jokes have almost stopped! Almost. 2 years later, and they still call me Ms. Woods now and again...”

Eric giggles, imagining Shitty adorned in pink with a small dog in a purse. “Alright. On with the tour! Tiny as it may be.”

The smaller hallway of the ‘L’—which is closer to the street—has four rooms, three looking out at the houses across the way, and one facing out to the backyard.

“That first room is mine. Well, usually. My good buddies, Ransom and Holster, are in town and they would normally sleep in your room, but unfortunately,” he pauses and glares in the direction of the second room, “we have _another_ unexpected guest, of the asshole variety. Kent Parson.”

Shitty pauses and looks at Eric, obviously expecting some kind of reaction.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t know who Kent Parson is?”

Eric shakes his head. “‘Nother friend of yours?”

Shitty sighs. “Not exactly. He’s a pro hockey player with the Las Vegas Aces. He’s a pretty big deal in the NHL.” He lowers his voice. “Most of us aren’t fans, though. He’s a good hockey player, but an enormous douche. Like, the biggest douche I’ve ever met. Hopefully you won’t have to deal with him much. With any luck, his pretty boy ass will be out of here in a couple days, and you can have your room!”

“How bad could he possibly be?”

“ _Bad_ , my man. Picture, like, the mom from _Tangled_ . But younger. And male. And more evil and manipulative. _Asshole,_ ” he growls at the door. They reach the end of the hallway.

“Alright, to your right, you’ll find the trusty old bathroom. Shower, toilet, sink, the works. And to the left...a room we usually avoid. The cave of Jack Zimmermann, the prettiest but mopiest robot of a human in the state, possibly the country. I love him to death, but the dude’s got some issues. You’ll see.”

He tentatively approaches the door, knocking softly and putting his ear to the wood to listen for a response. Eric raises an eyebrow. “Awfully dramatic, aren’t you?”

Shitty frowns and shushes him, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. “I have my methods, brah. Interacting with Jack isn’t...simple.”

He knocks again, slightly louder, but again there's no response.

“Shit,” he whispers under his breath. He turns to Eric. “You know what this means? We’re goin’ in. Hold on to your butt.”

Shitty carefully turns the doorknob and looks inside. Eric creeps up behind him, peering around Shitty. The room is dim, the windows curtained, and all Eric can see is a mass on the bed, slowly rising and falling under the blankets.

“I’m definitely gonna kill Lards for making me do this...”

Shitty pushes the door all the way open and crosses to the window. He takes one last look at Jack before throwing all caution to the wind and violently ripping the curtains open, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Eric hears a groan from the bed and laughs a little, then even harder when Shitty all but dives into the heap.

“Jack, wake your lazy ass up, you’ve got a fuckin’ visitor!”

Eric enters the room, staying close to the doorway and looking around. It isn't anything huge or impressive, but it is tidy, which he can certainly appreciate. The bed is in the corner, with a circular rug at its foot. Next to the bed on the back wall is a desk with another lamp, a laptop, and some notebooks.

Shitty is now wrestling with the lump on the bed. He has his hands and arms wrapped up in the blankets and he's tugging at them with his full weight, gritting his teeth.

“Jack. Zimmermann. Stop. Being. Juvenile.” With every word he tugs a little harder, until finally Jack lets go and Shitty tumbles off the bed.

“That’s more like it!” he says as he hops back to his feet, still tangled in sheets.

Jack sits up, rubbing his eyes, and Eric’s heart nearly stops. Jack’s hair is disheveled as anything, he has a layer of scraggly scruff covering his face, and he’s been sleeping in a horrendously oversized sweatshirt. But his eyes. The afternoon sunlight bounces off of those gorgeous big blue eyes and Eric feels like he's melting.

“Oh. Uh. What?” Jack turns to Shitty.

“Brah, I already told you that someone was gonna be moving into the room next door. Like, at least twice. You’d be in the loop if you left your fucking bed more often...”

Jack waves a hand at him dismissively and Eric steps a little closer. “Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Eric Bittle–”

“But you can call him Bitty!” Shitty grins.

“Just Eric is fine,” he laughs.

Jack blinks at him slowly, then blinks at Shitty, then turns back to Eric.

“Why are you here? I mean, _in_ here?”

Shitty’s grin falters. “Okay, so about that. We have a sitch. You know how Rans and Holtzy are in my room, and Parse is in the extra room?”

Jack nods and blinks again, obviously still extremely sleepy. Eric’s heart does a little somersault. Jack is the most attractive man he's ever seen, even all disoriented and messy.

“Well... Bittyhere’sgonnahavetoroomwithyouuntilthey’regone,” Shitty says in one breath, spitting it out as if ripping off a bandaid.

He winces and backs up a step as Jack sits straight up, suddenly very awake.

“ _What_? No. Absolutely not, Shits.” He glances over at Eric, then continues to glare at Shitty.

“Jack, we’re out of options, man. I’m not letting this poor kid suffer through any amount of time with Kent Parson. I’m already sleeping on a fucking couch, and you probably need some more interaction with things that breathe anyway.”

Jack continues to frown, his bottom lip protruding slightly in a way that makes Eric want to die right then and there.

“He’s—you’re not sleeping in my bed.”

Eric blushes a little, not quite sure how to respond to that. “Uh, no! Of course not. This rug looks...mighty comfortable...And it’s only a few nights after all, right? _Right?_ ” His eyes widen a little as he looked to Shitty for reassurance. Shitty nods sympathetically.

“I’ll hook you up little dude, more blankets and pillows than you ever thought existed.”

Eric takes a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. Suddenly the situation that seemed too good to be true is looking less and less ideal. But he's resilient, a couple of nights on the floor is nothing!

Once, Eric had fallen asleep while baking. _While baking._ He’d slumped over the counter and passed out practically standing up, out cold until he was rudely awakened almost an hour later by the overwhelming stench of burning pie.

“Alright, you fuckin’ grump, we’ll get out of your way now so you can go back to getting your feline-ious amount of sleep.” Shitty rolls his eyes as he throws the covers back over Jack, then winks at Eric.

Eric cringes at Shitty’s pun, then addresses the lump on the bed. “It was, uh, nice meeting you?”

Jack grunts from under the blankets.

Shitty smiles apologetically, herding Eric out of the room and closing the door. He exhales loudly.

“Ok, that went better than I was expecting. Probably because you’re cute; not that he’d admit it.”

Eric feels his cheeks flush again.

“Did I not sufficiently warn you about his killer good looks? Yeah, totally not fair. Even after being asleep for like, 20 hours straight, the guy still looks hot. And you haven’t even seen his butt yet.” Shitty winks at Eric and heads towards the stairs; Eric follows.

“Oh, uh, that’s it.” Shitty says when he notices Eric following. “That’s the whole house, minus the backyard. I can help you bring your stuff up! I guess we could leave it in the hallway for now, but other than that–”

“What the hell is his deal?”

Shitty looks a little surprised. “Uh?”

“Jack, I mean. I think the cavemen probably spoke more words to each other than he did to me just now. So what’s his deal?”

Shitty sighs and sits down against the wall next to the bathroom, patting the spot next to him. Eric also takes a seat on the wooden floor.

“I guess you should know the whole story, but don’t mention to him that I told you. Neither of us would survive _that_ ordeal. So, Jack Zimmermann was a fucking amazing hockey player back in college, like, the best the league had seen. I was so proud to be friends with him. Dude was always kinda quiet though, the ever stoic leader of the pack, you know? His dad was a big hockey star in his day so he had a lot of pressure on him, but I guess that shit worked for him because he practiced like hell and suddenly he was unstoppable.

“We got close-ish, as close as you can get with someone that closed off, and I started learning shit. He’s suffering through some pretty nasty mental illness, always has. He actually didn’t even start college until he was 21 because he OD’d on anxiety meds when he was 18. Real scary shit. He got better in college, I guess because he was so focused on his grades and the team, and he was on track to becoming a pro player right out of college. But then in the last game of his senior year he got checked. _Hard_. It was a freak accident. He...somehow he broke both legs, including the femur in his right, and suddenly he was completely out of commission.

“The guy fell apart. He went back to Montreal for a while so his parents could keep an eye on him, then they sent him here once he was more or less healed. Physically healed at least. He didn’t want to even _think_ about hockey anymore, and that shit still breaks my heart when I think about it. He was the best. He still could be the best, but right now it’s not looking so good for him. He’s 26, turning 27, and who knows when—if—he’s gonna get a grip. Every so often Kent comes around and tries to convince him to get back in the game but, well...that never really goes well. Plus Kent tends to try to manipulate Jack by saying he’ll break up with him if he doesn’t start playing again or he can’t love Jack like this or whatever. It’s real fucked up, most of us hate his guts.”

“Oh, they’re, uh, together? Why aren’t _they_ sharing a room?”

Shitty smiles a little. “I guess that’s the real question. They’ve been on and off for so long that despite how much Jack hates Parse’s guts, neither of them can ever let go. But their relationship is more drama than the damn Kardashians.”

“That’s so...”

“Sad? Fucking annoying? Almost amusing? Yes indeed my bro. I’ve been through every stage of emotion regarding the Parse-Zimmermann shuffle, they’re all valid.”

“Wow. So before Jack moved in it was just you and Lardo then, right? Are you two...?”

Shitty blushes. “Again, complicated. She’s kinda my brah, which makes things a little weird, but there’s something there. She’s just so...intriguing, you know? Like, she’s the best beer pong player I’ve ever met. Never misses a shot, even when she’s totally shwasted, but she also has this really deep artsy side. I mean, that’s what she does, she’s an artist. A good one. Real abstract pieces. She’s made some decent cash off of ‘em too.”

Eric nods appreciatively. He had seen a few of the paintings when he had peeked into her room earlier, so he could see why.

“And what about the other two?” Eric asks.

“Hm? Oh, Ransom and Holster! Not their real names of course—college hockey was all about the nicknames. We’re not really sure about them. They...make money somehow. They’re probably dating? We don’t ask, but once you meet them you’ll see what I mean, I think.”

“So,” Eric says, trying to keep his tone casual, “I assume you’d be okay with me being gay then, considering all of that?”

Shitty scoffs. “Well _that_ was fast. I mean, I didn’t wanna assume anything based on bullshit gender norms, I mean, straight guys _can_ bake, but seeing the way you went red after meeting Jack? I wasn’t gonna ask or anything, but I sorta figured, you know? Dude, the majority of the people in this house are gay. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m a fucking minority here.”

“Oh. Wow. I guess I just thought since you were all so sporty–”

“That we’d all be straight? Bitty that’s perpetuating a stereotype, and I won’t stand for it!”

“You’re already sitting down.” He smiles coyly at Shitty, who playfully pushes him.

“Shut up. You’re gonna fit in great here with that sense of humor, dude. You gotta be careful around Lardo though, the girl can really rip into you if you give her an opening.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see about that, now won’t we?”

Shitty’s eyes gleam. “I do like a fighter! We’ll have to get you two in the ring, have a little chirp-off to assert dominance,” he says, chuckling.

“Chirp-off?” There’s that word again.

“Oh sorry, I’m so used to spitting hockey lingo. You’ll probably start to pick it up too, though I can’t imagine that cute accent of yours wrapping its way around _all_ of it. Chirping is basically like teasing, although on the ice it’s more ruthless.”

Both stand up to head back downstairs.

“So Bitty, I never asked, what is it that you do?”

“I thought that pie earlier would have answered that question!”

" _Bro._ No way, you’re like a legit baker? Not just for shits and giggles?”

“Yes, sir! I even got a job at this cute little bakery right near here, it’s called Holly’s–”

“ _HOLLY’S_ ?!” Shitty interrupts by shouting the name simultaneously. “This is really some sitcom shit. Lards and me practically _live_ there. Holly, the owner, is basically my second mother. Sweetest damn woman you’ll ever meet. You’re gonna love working there, and now I’ll have yet another excuse to stop by.” He winks at Eric as they reach the bottom of the stairs.

“So, we’ll bring your stuff upstairs, get you as settled in quick as possible, then crack open a couple beers and get acquainted. Well, more acquainted. You _are_ of legal drinking age, right?”

Eric nods and Shitty laughs.

“As if that ever stopped me! I crack myself up.”

Eric’s first night is torture. Not because he's on the floor; on the contrary, he's actually pretty comfy. Shitty had definitely gone all out with the pillows and blankets, and Eric does settle himself over the rug despite having joked about it earlier.

No, the torture is listening to Jack breathe, a steady rhythm that Eric eventually realizes he's accidentally copied. The torture is the image of those startlingly sad blue eyes piercing right through him, making his thoughts scatter and his brain short out. He hasn’t felt like that about anybody in his life, especially not at first sight. After hearing Jack’s story, Eric can't help but feel sympathy. Maybe a little bit of pity. He knows beyond that broken down exterior there must be a real person inside, but he's devastated to think that he might never get to meet that man.

Eric has never been the type to pursue relationships. Maybe that’s why he’s never experienced one. He can't even remember ever having feelings for a boy. He definitely appreciates physically appearance from time to time, but he never really feels any kind of emotional connection. His thoughts on relationships are simple: the good Lord'll bring someone along when the time is right, but Eric won’t ever go out of his way yearning for some guy he has no chance with.

But with Jack... It’s so cliche, but something feels so different right off the bat. Eric hasn't even met Kent Parson, doesn't even know what he looks like, but he wants to give him a piece of his mind. Nobody deserves to be manipulated like that, especially someone in Jack’s position.

 _So if you're out there I swear to be good to you,_  
_but I'm done looking for my future someone,_  
_Cause when the time is right you'll be here_ _  
but for now, dear no one,_

_This is your love song_

Eric sighs and thinks about how the rest of his day had gone. After they had brought his boxes upstairs, Eric spent the day just talking and drinking with Shitty and Lardo. Ransom and Holster joined them for a few hours as well, then escaped back to their room to do who knows what. Eric could definitely see what Shitty had said about them being a couple.

Kent didn’t show, but everybody seemed fine with that.

Eric shivers and wraps one of his many blankets tighter around himself. The early summer night is cool and breezy and apparently Jack likes to sleep with the window open. Eric would have said something, but he already feels like he’s intruding as it is. Just as he's about to fall asleep, there's a sudden weight on top of him and a loud thump. His eyes shoot open and his heart rate skyrockets up as Jack trips over him and lands right on top of his fortress of comfort. Most of him anyway.

“Ow, _fuck!_ Forgot you were there...” Jack rubs his elbow where his arm had hit the hardwood and sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Geez, I’m sorry. I already feel bad enough taking over your space.”

“It’s fine,” Jack growls.

“What time is it?”

Jack shrugs. “Midnight? One?”

Eric yawns. “Dang, I didn’t realize how late we stayed up, the time really flew. Real interesting people, your friends!”

Jack stands up, still rubbing his elbow and muttering under his breath. He leaves the room without responding and Eric watches as he goes, confused and frankly, offended. A sliver of light comes through the doorway from the bathroom across the hallway and Eric can hear water running and quiet humming. After a few minutes, Jack returns, but instead of getting back into bed, he sits down at his desk and turns the lamp on. Eric, who had been watching curiously, recoils at the sudden light.

Jack realizes after he hears Eric's quiet gasp. “Oh. Sorry. Is it okay if have this on?”

Eric sighs. “I suppose. Goodnight.”

Jack grunts in response but says nothing. Eric quickly pulls out his phone and opens Twitter. He scrolls down his feed for a few minutes then tweets:

_Hey y’all, quick update. Won’t be able to upload any vlogs indefinitely. Also I’m sleeping on the darn floor. #isthisadulthood?_

He closes out of the app and puts his phone away. The exhaustion from moving and meeting so many new people finally catches up to him. The last thing he pictures before he falls asleep is a pair of blue eyes, looking directly into his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is just a lot of exposition, but you gotta admit a 2-day gap between chapters is impressive so it all cancels out. Plus it sets up the story exposition can be annoying but important, especially in an AU. Now we're all on the same page more or less. Enjoy! Chapter 3 should be up some time this weekend, possibly earlier <3  
> Also, please let me know what you think of my characterization? I think a lot of this is just how I picture the characters in my head, although Bitty has been a little bit quieter than he normally would be so far (but that's because he's in a house full of brand new people and whatnot). Anyway I just love feedback!!  
> Also I'm sorry to people who like Kent Parson, I like him as much as the next guy but I had to make SOMEONE the 'villain'  
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly


	3. one thing that i still know is that you're keeping me down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Gravity by Sara Bareilles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEXhAMtbaec)

Eric’s first day of work is more than he could have hoped for.

Shitty was right about Holly: she's the most adorable woman Eric ever had the pleasure to meet. She's a short, stout woman in her late 50s with graying hair and a Southern accent that makes Eric feel right at home. She gives him a quick tour of the kitchen, which is absolutely beautiful. The bakery is clearly successful because the amount of up-to-date equipment that Eric will have access to is unbelievable. He feels himself getting emotional. Kitchens are always home, no matter the size.

Unfortunately, his first day is mostly cash register duty, which means dealing with customers. Eric doesn't dislike social interaction by any means, in fact he thrives on it, but people always seem to forget that the cute little blond behind the counter also had feelings. So while he's still getting into the groove of things, regular customers bark out their orders, getting impatient when Eric has to take more time than they're used to while getting them what they need. After only a few hours he's exhausted and desperate for a shower, but he has to stay until 9 PM, when the bakery closes.

Around seven, things start to die down. Eric collapses into a seat behind the counter, just as Holly pokes her head out from the kitchen. “Tired darlin’?”

He quickly stands up, shaking his head. “No ma’am, just, uh, taking a little breather!” He clears his throat. “Sorry...”

She laughs and wipes her hands on a towel, then affectionately pats his cheek. “It’s okay, Eric. I know how draining counter duty is. You did great for your first day! It’s awful funny how understaffed we are, considering how popular the bakery is. It’s like all these folks want to eat the goods, but nobody ever wants to make them!”

Eric grins. “They’re missing out on the best part!”

Holly nods. “You bet your butt they are! Alright, I’ll take over the register until closing, so you can have some time in the back.”

Eric’s eyes light up and he gasps a little. “Really? Are you sure?”

She chuckles and pats his shoulder. “‘Course I’m sure, I trust you, especially after that delicious pie you brought this morning. _That_ sold like hotcakes. Better than hotcakes, really. Kitchen’s yours for a couple hours, just let me know later what ingredients you use honey!”

So Eric heads back into the kitchen, basking in its sparkling chrome and dazzling tile. He doesn't even know what to make! He has two hours, multiple ovens, and access to pretty much all the ingredients he wants, and frankly, it's a little overwhelming. Finally, he decides to start simple and make some sugar cookies. Just something quick and easy to get him acquainted with all of the equipment and the space. Eric likes to have a good feel for his workspace, it just makes him feel more comfortable. He also likes to think it makes his baking taste even better.

He finds the flour, sugar, baking powder and baking soda in the pantry, then goes to the fridge for butter and eggs. He also finds some vanilla flavoring in a drawer. He preheats one of the ovens, then rolls up his sleeves and dives in. Within minutes, he has a large bowl full of cookie dough, aromatic and yellowish-white. He closes his eyes and breathes in the scent, sighing at the memories it evokes. He can still remember the first time his mother let him bake cookies “on his own”, and suddenly Eric is homesick. He feels the warm sting of tears in his eyes but blinks them away.

“Can’t be getting the batter all salty,” he mutters. He composes himself with a few deep breaths and begins spooning the dough out onto a cookie sheet, whistling as he works. He isn't unhappy in the house by any means; in fact he already kinda feels like just another one of the bros. It doesn't change the fact that he that misses his old apartment, and even his childhood bedroom back in Georgia.

On that topic, he grumbles a little bit when he remembers he's going to go home just to spend yet another night on the floor of Jack’s room. Kent, whom Eric still hasn't met somehow, is still inhabiting what's supposed to be his room. As much as he wants a bed, he doesn't have it in him to be rude to a stranger and kick him out. He can tell Jack isn't too happy with the arrangement either. The older boy rarely speaks to Eric, especially because he sleeps through the day most of the time like some kind of vampire, but if their paths cross on Eric’s way to bed the conversation is completely one-sided. In fact Eric isn't even sure if he could call that conversing, more like talking _at_ Jack—who usually only makes grunting noises as a response.

Eric wishes that Jack would talk more. When he does hear his voice–that beautiful, deep voice, often a little scratchy from sleep–he feels like his feet leave the ground. He scolds himself every time it happens. After all, Jack _is_ just a person, and not a very nice one at that. He's actually kind of an asshole, in Eric’s opinion. While he wants to prove to Shitty that maybe things could be different with him, Jack doesn't want to open up to _anybody._ That much is obvious.

Eric subconsciously whips up a few more batches of cookies using various recipes that are engraved onto his brain, not even meaning to makes so many but lost in his thoughts. Before he knows it the clock reads 8:50 PM and the counters in the kitchen are covered in sheets of cooling cookies.

Holly comes back and whistles at the sight. “Lordy, it smells good in here! Did you really bake all of these just now?”

Eric nods proudly. “I’m pretty good at multitasking. It’s like my body sorta takes over and I can let my mind wander. And then this,” he gestures to all of the cookies, “happens! Uh, you don’t have to use them all, they’re just old family recipes that reminded me of home.”

“Eric Bittle, aren’t you just the cutest little thing! I’d hate to let any of it go to waste, so here’s what we’ll do. You can take half of them home, and the other half we’ll package up and sell tomorrow. That’s gonna take some time, but I’ll help you out, alright? And then I’ll show you how to lock up in case I need you to do that in the future.”

Eric beams. “Sounds good to me! I can clean up the kitchen too.”

“I’m holding you to that one, sweetheart!” She winks as she rolls up her sleeves.

“Yes ma’am!”

They turn back to the cookie armada. They have a lot of work to do.

About an hour later, the kitchen is absolutely spotless. Eric's packed away half of the cookies into airtight containers and put them on shelves in the kitchen, and Holly helps him dump the others into a gigantic plastic bag, mixing at least 5 varieties of cookies. He would have preferred to sort them into separate containers, but he’s afraid that if he brings containers home, they might not be returned. Either way, his friends are in for a treat.

He hangs up his apron next to Holly’s and does one last scan of the kitchen, making sure all of the mixers are unplugged and no ovens remain on. Holly then turns out the lights and they leave the bakery, locking the door behind them. Eric struggles for a minute with the large bag of cookies but eventually gets his grip on it. He doesn't have a car, but the walk to the bakery is only a little over 30 minutes, and he figures he could probably use the exercise anyway. He hates walking alone at night though, every little sound makes him jump.

When he finally gets back to the house it's almost midnight. He breathes a sigh of relief and plops the cookies down in the middle of the table in the kitchen where Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster are all sitting.

Shitty damn near cries. “Bro, that’s a serious stash right there. All for us?”

Eric smiles and nods. “I got a little carried away.... Holly said I could bring some home for y’all!”

Shitty gets up and hugs him dramatically. “My little hero, bless your fucking heart, dude.”

Lardo rolls her eyes as she bites into a cookie. “Shits, sit down and just try one of these. Bitty, how the fuck did you carry this huge bag here by yourself?”

He scowls a little, defensively. “I may not be the biggest guy, but I’m not incapable, thank you very much!”

“Alright, sorry, my man, I’ll never again question your cookie carting skills!”

Ransom grabs a chocolate chip from among the mass and takes a huge bite. “Bitty bro, these are some _dece_ cookies. Recipe me?”

Eric shakes his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. Old family recipe. If I share it I’m sure I’ll cause some kind of ancient curse to descend upon my baked goods for the rest of my days.”

Holster whines. “Fine, but when we leave, you gotta hook us up. I don’t know if I can go on without these fuckers. These fucking cookies have changed me, man.”

Eric giggles and blushes.

Shitty moans after taking a bite of another cookie. “Bitty, I’m not the kind of guy who thinks an oatmeal raisin cookie is an acceptable dessert, but this cookie is beyond my inferior human words. You’re a goddamn genius, brah...” He finishes the cookie and shoves another into his mouth, whole.

Lardo nods in agreement. “This better be a regular occurrence, Bits. I’m thinking about an addendum to the rental agreement. Cookies or eviction.”

“Y’all are too sweet, I appreciate it. Um...” Eric hesitates for a second. “I think I’m gonna take a few up to Jack.”

All four pairs of eyes widen just a little bit—all chewing pauses for a silent moment. Shitty swallows the entire cookie he’s been working on and clears his throat.

“Maybe not the best idea. Despite being mostly bedridden, the man still eats healthier than your average white food-blog-running suburban mom. Cookies are probs a no-go, bro,” Shitty says.

Eric scoffs. “Come on, he’s gotta have _some_ indulgences, sometimes!”

There's no response, just more stares.

“Jack Zimmermann is eating cookies tonight, and I refuse to let your soul-piercing stares stop me!” Eric says defiantly.

He grabs a few cookies and puts them on a plate, pouring some milk into a glass with a flourish. He can feel everybody’s eyes on him as he gathers everything together. He ignores them as he leaves the room and heads up the stairs. His own nerves are distracting enough, because this is probably a _terrible_ idea. He knocks on the door of their shared bedroom and slips inside, careful not to spill or drop anything. From what he can tell Jack is asleep, but if the past two nights have been any indication, he’ll be waking up soon.

Eric sets the cookies and milk down on the desk and looks at Jack for a second, contemplating how far he’s really willing to go to get Jack to try his cookies. He takes a deep breath, turns on the lamp, and gives Jack’s shoulder a little nudge. Jack doesn't respond, so he nudges a little harder, eliciting an angry groan.

“What?”

“Um, well hi, I just thought you might want–”

Jack’s head rises off the pillow and turns slightly toward Eric’s voice. “Is somebody dead?”

“Uh? No.”

“Is somebody dying or seriously injured?”

“No, but–”

“Is Shitty drunk and in possession of a sharp object?”

“What? No of course not, I just–”

“Then what makes you think you can just stroll in here and wake me up?”

“I brought you cookies,” Eric squeaks.

Jack takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, wringing his blanket between his hands. He then turns more toward Eric and asks through gritted teeth, "Cookies?"

Eric nods.

“That’s it?”

“Well everybody else was enjoying them and I didn’t want you to miss out.”

“I _am_ missing out currently. I could be asleep, but I’m talking to you.”

Eric frowns. “Alright, well that was just plain rude. You’re really not a pleasant person, you know that?”

Jack blinks at him. “Am I supposed to care about how pleasant I am?"

“Well, you should. Soon enough your friends are gonna get sick of you moping around day after day and want you out of the house!”

Jack laughs a short, cold laugh that actually makes Eric back up a step.

“Not likely Bittle, but thanks for the warning. Where the hell did those cookies even come from?”

Eric huffs a little. “I made them!”

“Why?”

Eric stares at him a little incredulously. “It’s my job... I work at a bakery.”

“Huh. I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably because you hardly even bother to give me the time of day, let alone ask anything about me.”

Jack starts to roll his eyes, then notices the cookies. “Those do, uh...look okay...”

Eric raises an eyebrow. “Okay? Not even close darlin’.” He blushed as he realizes his mistake. The pet name had just slipped, and especially after spending a day with Holly, it was only natural.

Jack gapes for a moment, then says, “You’re thin.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. A little skinny to be a baker, eh? You could probably use more protein in your diet.”

Eric can't help but snort. “Did you just actually say ‘eh’?”

Jack frowns. “Well, _you_ called me darling.”

Eric blushes again. “Fair enough. And for your information, I don’t like to eat a lot of my own work. I’m not skinny, I’m just..." he ponders for a second, looking for the right word. Finally he decides on: "...wiry! Now, I’m gonna head back downstairs, and when I come back up here later those cookies better be gone. You’re gonna eat them, and you’re gonna like them!”

Eric goes to stomp out of the room, intending to leave with dramatic flair, but he jumps and gasps when he finds himself bumping into another person. He's just a little taller than Eric, and when Eric's hands go in front of his body instinctively, he can feel that the guy is solidly built.

“Whoah, hey. Who the hell are you?”

He hears Jack’s tired voice from behind him, suddenly even more weary than before, “That’s Bittle.”

Eric clears his throat and sticks out his hand. “ _Eric._ And you must be the infamous Kent Parson.”

Kent glances at his hand but doesn't shake it. “Of course I am. Now if you’ll excuse us, Jack and I have a conversation to continue.”

Eric turns around as Jack speaks up again. “No, we don’t! Kent, go back to bed. I’m not talking about this right now.” He looks at Eric as if to say _please make him go away_. Despite the fact that the last thing he wants to do for Jack is a favor, Eric turns back to Kent.

“Well, you heard him! The gentleman would prefer to be alone at the moment.”

Kent scowls at him, looks at Jack, then turns on his heel and goes back to his room, slamming the door.

Eric rolls his eyes and faces Jack again, crossing the room to the bed.

“What was that about?” Eric asks.

“It’s not your business.”

Eric shrugs and turns to leave the room, knowing now that he hasn't made any progress. He feels discouraged until Jack starts to say something else.

“Wait! I’m sorry. I don’t like to talk about Kenny much. It’s complicated. I’ve been in love with him for so long, but he says and does a lot of stupid and careless things. Every time I try to break it off, I just can’t do it. He’s got hold of some part of me that I think might fall away without him, and...” He stops for a second, looking up at Eric. “...aaand I probably shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I hardly know you. Sorry. But, uh, thank you, for, you know...”

Eric’s breathing is a little fast because wow, Jack had actually just spoken to him. In full sentences and everything! His slight French-Canadian lilt is mesmerizing and Eric finds himself feeling a little dreamy after hearing it. He snaps out of the trance upon hearing Jack’s thank you. “No, no, no need to thank me! Just...eat those dang cookies and we’ll be even!”

Jack sighs. “How about just one?”

Eric smiles mischievously. “Oh sure, you can try to eat just one!”

Jack smiles, _holy shit he actually smiles_ , and reaches for the plate. He grabs a sugar cookie, one from the first batch Eric had made that night. He takes a small bite as Eric eagerly watches. He doesn't react like the others had, but Eric _does_ see his eyes widen slightly.

“Oh. This is...wow.”

“Didn’t I tell you? I’ll be leaving you two alone then.” He waggles his eyebrows and rushes out the door, closing it quickly but quietly behind him. He knits his eyebrows together and then questions himself aloud, whispering, " _I'll be leaving you two alone_? What does that even mean!? They're cookies..."

 _You're neither friend nor foe,_   
_but I can't seem to let you go_   
_One thing that I still know_  
_is that you're keeping me down_

He slides down the wooden door, feeling his pulse race throughout his whole body. Did he just make a small breakthrough? All because he had the guts to stand up for Jack? Or maybe it was the cookies? Either way, he's grinning from ear to ear as he descends the steps and rejoins his newly acquired friends.

Shitty raises an eyebrow expectantly. “If that smile means what I think it means...”

“Mission accomplished! I saw with my very own eyes as Jack Zimmermann took a bite of my very own sugar cookie!”

Ransom’s mouth drops open. Lardo leans back on her chair and applauds him quietly, nodding. Shitty whoops and pats him on the back—maybe a little too hard.

“Bittle you’re some kind of fucking sorcerer, I’m convinced of it,” Holster says solemnly. “Only magic could have made that happen.”

Eric shrugs. “I have a way with people. Plus, who in their right mind can really turn down an Eric Bittle cookie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Updates two days in a row? Unheard of! I can't stop writing this and I'm a mess but I'm just gonna keep going and hope everybody enjoys it anyway lol <3
> 
>  
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles


	4. you're vulnerable, you are not a robot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [I Am Not a Robot by Marina and the Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S_oMD6-6q5Y)

Over the next few days, Eric spends a lot of time at the bakery. _A lot_. Like, more than Shitty tells him is healthy. But baking is so therapeutic to him, and he feels so relaxed and warm and happy in the kitchen at Holly’s. He’s still sleeping on the floor because Kent refuses to leave until Jack talks to him, but Jack won’t budge and neither will Parse. So Eric is the one who has to suffer and sleep on the floor. The rest of the housemates aren’t too happy about it either, and whenever Kent emerges from his room there’s an awkward tension in the air. Conversations stop, even when they aren’t about him, and he glares at them, but that’s the most amount of interaction they ever achieve.

Frankly, Kent makes Eric uncomfortable. He _radiates_ douchiness like nobody Eric has ever met, so Eric asks Holly if it’s okay that he work extra hours to avoid running into him. Plus he can earn some extra money this way. Not that he really needs it at the moment, Shitty adamantly refuses to let him pay rent. “You’re sleeping on the floor for Christ’s sake, I’m not gonna let you fucking _pay_ me to sleep on the floor.”

Shitty _had_ , however, made an attempt to get Parse to pay. That conversation hadn’t gone too well. “Hey asshole, if you’re gonna live here you really do need to start paying.”

“I’m not an idiot, Knight. That Bittle kid isn’t paying, so I won’t.”

“He’s sleeping on a fucking rug.”

“Yeah, in _my_ boyfriend’s room.”

And it doesn't really go anywhere from there.

So Eric elects to spend the majority of the next few days at the bakery, working ungodly hours. Shitty is a little worried about him.

“Bits, you’re working your little ass off. I’m not even letting you pay rent, what the fuck is up?”

Eric shrugs him off. “I just like the bakery! Holly lets me try out all these new recipes I find online, and the customers are really starting to warm up to me.” Both are true. Nobody can escape Eric’s Southern charm for very long.

“Hey, do you want the couch for a while? I could crash with Jack,” Shitty offers.

“No, I think I’m fine where I am, but thanks, Shitty!”

Shitty just raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I’m sure you don’t need to be reminded, but Bitty, you’re legit sleeping on a fucking _rug. A rug, Bittle._ And it’s not even a good one. That piece of shit is scratchy as hell; I have no idea why Jack refuses to get rid of it. It’s obscene.”

Eric laughs. “Really, I’m fine! You’re worse than my mother, I swear.”

“Hey, I accept and cherish the role of ‘mom friend’. Everyone would fall apart without me. Well except during Smashfest. That’s when I let myself fall apart.”

“Smashfest?”

“OOOOH bro, I totally forgot to let you in on the wonders of Smashfest. It’s an ancient tradition, every summer we have a week of parties. It’s fucking ridiculous the shit that goes down that week. It’s coming up soon actually.”

Eric’s eyes widen. “A whole week? Sounds awful excessive. When do y’all sleep?”

Shitty just shrugs. “Whenever. Time really has no meaning, dude.”

On his sixth night in the house, Eric gets back from the bakery around one in the morning, later than usual. He’s perplexed to find Kent sitting outside of Jack’s room, dozing.

He clears his throat. “Kent?”

Parse’s eyes shoot open and he jumps, scowling at Eric as he comes to his senses.

“Well, look who decided to show up! Been off making cakes with cute little forest creatures all day, princess?”

Eric scowls back. “What exactly are you doing?”

“I’m waiting. Jack has to come out of that room eventually. When he does, he’s gonna talk to me, and I’m gonna change his fucking mind.”

Eric smiles. “I don’t know. From what I’ve seen, he can be mighty stubborn!”

“Yeah, well, what the fuck do you know, anyway? You’ve been here, what? A fucking week? I’ve known Zimms for years.”

Kent stands up and gets in Eric’s face.

“Don’t think I’m not on to you, too. Playing all cute and innocent. But he’s mine, he always has been, and he always will be. You try to take him from me, and it could be the last thing you do.”

Eric isn’t smiling anymore. “He isn’t some object, Parson. And I’m not trying to steal him. May I remind you, I’m only sleeping on the damn floor of his room because you refuse to leave _mine_.”

Kent opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it, defeated.

“Screw you Bittle. You’ll see. In a couple of days he’ll be out of that room and acting like a normal person again.”

Eric groans. “You mean you’re staying at least a couple more days?”

“Yeah, and none of you are brave enough to fucking stop me. It’s hilarious, actually, almost adorable.”

“Hilarious and adorable? Are you flirting with me, Kenny?”

Kent grabs Eric by the front of his shirt and pushes him against the door of Jack’s room. Eric cries out as he makes contact, his shoulder blades throbbing.

“Only Jack can call me that you fucking–”

There’s a sound of feet running up the steps, and suddenly Eric is in Shitty’s grip and Lardo is on top of Kent, who’s pinned under her knees. Her hands are keeping his shoulders on the ground as he struggles to get up.

“You’re a fucking bully, Parson. Go back to your room, pack your shit, and get the fuck out of this house. I’m so sick of this attitude. You don’t get to hurt Bitty, you don’t get to hurt anyone in this house,” Lardo spits.

Kent’s eyes are wide with anger, and from what Eric can tell, a little bit of fear.

“Fuck you guys, he was the one mouthing off,” Kent grumbles.

“Yeah, I’m sure this is his fault,” Lardo replies sarcastically as she steps off of him. Kent pushes himself off the floor, and gives them all one last glare before going back to his room.

Shitty pats Lardo on the back. “Brah, nice fucking tackle. Bits, you good?”

Eric smiles a little. “Yeah, thanks y’all. Nothing I couldn’t have handled, but I still appreciate it.”

Lardo nods. “Ever since what happened last year, I don’t like to take any chances.”

Shitty nods back gravely and Eric frowns. “What happened, exactly?”

Lardo sighs. “Like everything with Jack and Kent, it’s complicated. But to make a long story short, they got into an argument, one that Jack must have been winning, so as a last resort–”

Eric gasps. “No way. Did Kent hit him?”

Silence.

“Good lord...”

“Yeah man, now I guess you can see why we hate that dickbag so much. Plus he’s so fucking dense, I really don’t know what Jack sees in him,” Shitty says.

Eric shushes him. “He’s probably not asleep, he could hear you.”

“Oh yeah?” Shitty walks closer to the door. “Let him hear this. Jack Zimmermann deserves better than that fucking prick, Kent Parson.”

There’s a tense pause.

“Shitty you’re so fucking dramatic, are you sure about law? Ever considered theater?”

Eric giggles as Lardo breaks the silence. Shitty smiles and rolls his eyes. “Is there really a difference?” He claps Eric on the back. “Bitty, If he ever tries to pull anything like that shit again, just give us a holler. We won’t hesitate to give him the _full_ Shitty-Lardo treatment.”

Eric smiles and hugs Shitty, who is surprised for a split second then returns the hug. “Thanks, you two.”

Lardo ruffles his hair a little bit. “Of course, dummy, us bros have to look out for each other.”

So Kent Parson really is as bad as everyone made him out to be. Eric wishes he could vlog about it but he really doesn’t feel comfortable talking to his laptop with Jack in the room. He keeps his Twitter updated, often with pictures of his latest baking or selfies with his housemates. He calls his mother once, a week in, and he lies and says that everything is just fine. He can’t imagine the heart failure he would cause by mentioning his sleeping arrangements.

The day after his close encounter with Kent, Eric is distracted and absent-minded at work. Holly notices.

“Eric, honey, everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah of course! Just a lot on my mind ma’am. I’ll get focused now.”

“Alright dear. By the way, the other day I had a few customers come in asking for that apple pie again! You know, the one you brought in your first day? I was wondering if you could whip up a couple more while it’s still early.”

Eric practically squeals. “I sure can! Did they really like it _that_ much?”

“Yes indeed! I just got some fresh apples this morning, so you should have everything you need. Now get back there and get cookin’!” She swats his backside as he runs to the kitchen, hastily throwing his apron around his waist. He sees the bowl of apples that Holly had left out for him and hears the bell on the door jingle as a lone customer steps into the store. It was looking to be a good day.

He peels the apples without even thinking about what he’s doing. He’s made this pie so many times that the recipe is in his muscle memory. He chops up the apples and sets them aside, sprinkling just a little bit of lemon juice on them to prevent them from browning. That was one of his favorite aspects about apple pie. The lemon juice provided a tang that contrasted the sweetness of the apples and cinnamon and kept the apples crunchy.

He prepares the crust and preheats the oven. He can’t help but start to hum and dance around, because nothing makes him happier than making his favorite recipe.

Soon enough, he has 2 full pies and 2 dozen mini pies, all cooling and filling the room with a comforting, familiar smell.

Eric leaves the kitchen, wiping his hands on the apron. The rising summer sun is shining in through the large windows of the bakery that face the east. Holly is sitting at the register, flipping through an old looking recipe book.

“Holly? Why’s it so quiet in here?”

She looks up. “Hush, honey. You’ll jinx it! The morning rush’ll be here before you know it.” She takes a second to smell the air, inhaling the scent wafting into the store from back in the kitchen. “All done back there? I gotta say, it smells fantastic.”

“Yes ma’am! The pies are cooling and the kitchen is clean. Do you want me to take the register to start the day?”

She considers it for a second. “Nope. I want you to go home.”

“W-what?” Suddenly he’s nervous. Is Holly not happy with him? He’s been working so hard, how could she be unsatisfied?

“You’ve already done so much today, and you’ve been spending an awful lot of time here. You deserve a little break! Go have fun with your friends, or get some sleep. You’ve got dark circles darlin’, you won’t be impressing any ladies looking like a zombie! I’ll be fine here, I can always use that pie to fight off any unruly customers.”

She gives him a wink and goes back to looking at the book.

“Well uh, thank you ma’am. I appreciate it!”

She waves him off. “It’s no big thing Eric. Today’s lookin’ to be a slow one, anyway.”

He takes his apron off hesitantly. He really doesn’t know what he’s going to do with all of this new-found time. Lardo usually stays in her room all day working on whatever project. Shitty tends to tuck away into the reading nook and doesn’t like to be bothered. Ransom and Holster are off on a little day trip... Maybe he should get some sleep, but the prospect of sleeping on the rug, yet again, turns him off from that idea immediately.

When he gets home, he quietly slips into Jack’s room, making sure not to wake him. It’s around noon by now, which usually means Jack is asleep. Today however, Eric is surprised to see Jack sitting at his desk frantically writing in a notebook. He glances over his shoulder as Eric comes in then goes back to whatever it is he’s doing.

“Oh, Jack! You’re awake?”

“Mm-hm. I’m… I’m getting a little tired of sleeping all day. Kinda ironic, eh?”

Eric giggles. “Just a little. Whatcha doing?”

Jack shrugs. He’s leaning over his notebook, almost defensively, his nose practically touching the page. Eric decides it’s best not to pry.

“Alright. Well Holly gave me the rest of the day off, but the only thing I feel like doing is baking.” Jack’s shoulders bounce up and down a little bit, and Eric realizes that he’s actually laughing.

“You never stop, do you? All you ever do is bake! I think you need a new hobby, some kind of new interest.”

Eric huffs. “No, I have other hobbies.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I have a vlog, for starters!”

Jack puts down his pen and turns to Eric. “What’s a vlog?”

Eric’s mouth drops open slightly. “Are you serious?”

Jack just stares at him and yeah, he’s serious.

“It’s a video blog. Instead of just writing, I record myself talking and then post it for all my followers. I’ve never really liked writing, but I can talk for hours, once I get going.”

“And what’s it about?”

Eric blushes a little bit as he realizes what Jack’s getting at. “Um...baking...”

The corners of Jack’s mouth twitch into a smile. “See what I mean?”

“Yeah I guess...”

“Don’t you do anything active?”

“You’re one to talk. You hardly leave that bed.”

“Not true. I go for runs every morning. Well, not this week, this week has been rough,” Jack adds.

“And why’s that?”

Jack jerks his head toward the room next door and Eric understands. Jack shuts down completely when Parse is around. Jack turns back to his notebook and Eric walks a little closer to the desk, his curiosity getting the better of him. He sees that Jack has been writing what looks like a letter.

_Dear Kenny,_

_I think it’s about time we_ –

But Jack sees that he’s reading it and shuts the notebook quickly. Eric smiles apologetically. “Sorry, I’m being nosy.”

Jack exhales. “No, _I’m_ sorry. It’s uh...” He opens the notebook up again but Eric doesn't look this time. “I’m practicing.”

“For what?”

“For when I break up with him,” Jack says, voice riddled with embarrassment.

Eric’s eyes widen and oh, Jack really isn’t kidding. “Um, I’m...sorry?”

Jack shakes his head. “Don’t be. This has been a long time coming. It’s just not working anymore.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

There’s a pause, not awkward, just quiet. “I still love him, I think?”

Eric hadn’t asked, he isn’t even sure that he wanted to hear more, but it was apparent to him now that Jack needed to talk to someone. He was alone. “That could complicate things then.”

Jack nods. “He’s too much, though. He’s been all over me, and our personalities clash. We never agree on anything, and he puts so much pressure on me, which only makes me want to stay in my bed longer, you know? I sleep to avoid talking to him, but it’s also so hard to just cut him off. I feel like he’s all I have left, and he’s the only one who believes in me. I mean, you hear how everybody else talks about me. Like they’ve already given up.”

Eric frowns. “Now I’m sure _that_ isn’t true, Jack. And even if it is, don’t you think, just maybe, it’s time to prove them wrong?”

Jack sighs, as if he’s already considered it. “Maybe. Thanks for listening Bittle, I appreciate it.”

“Of course! I know I can ramble on sometimes, but I can be a good listener too.”

Jack smiles and nods.

“Alright, I’m gonna head downstairs and make some cookies. I know _you_ think I need a new hobby, so I guess that means you don’t want me to bring you some when they’re done,” Eric chirps.

Jack smiles, defeated by Eric’s baking. “Actually, if you could bring me just a couple, that would be nice.”

  
_You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable, you are not a robot_ _  
_ _You're lovable, you're lovable, but you're just troubled_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only been like a little over 12 hours since I posted the last chapter but I honestly couldn't stop writing. I can't wait until the plot can really get good, right now it's a little slow I know, but I appreciate all the support so far!
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds


	5. daydreamin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Daydreamin' by Ariana Grande](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhHrTQ2QEXs)
> 
> At this point I'm gonna say that personally, I find the fic is more enjoyable if you listen to the song either during or after you read each chapter, or both! I put this in the end notes as well but it really gives it an extra dimension, I think :)

The following morning, Eric wakes up extremely early so he can get to the bakery before Shitty or Lardo give him any trouble. But somehow, Shitty seems to be one step ahead of him, waiting at the door.

“And just where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Eric groans. “Shitty, I am a grown man, and capable of making decisions for myself. If I wanna go bake away my troubles, then I will!”

“What troubles could you possibly have? I mean, aside from the fact that your current bed is a rug older than my great-grandmother, and Kent-fucking-Parson still refuses to leave this house.”

Eric shrugs. “Well. I can’t vlog until I have my own room, so Holly is the only one I can really talk to about baking. And I’m not Kent’s biggest fan, so the less I have to see him, the better.”

“Okay, that’s fair. But Lards and I are coming with you.”

“What?! It’s a Saturday. Don’t y’all have any plans?”

“Yeah man, and those plans involve going to Holly’s and stuffing my fucking face,” Shitty says, grinning maniacally.

Lardo shoots out of her room. “Okay cool, I was afraid you guys were gone already. Shitty told me that you’ve been leaving hella early, Bits. I don’t know how you do that shit on a regular basis.”

“Practice?”

“I think I’ll pass on any kind of routine that involves the morning but...you do you. I still think it’s a crime to be up this early on a goddamn Saturday, but Shitty refused to let me sleep in.”

Eric sighs. “I’m probably gonna be at the bakery all day, y’all. There ain’t gonna be anything for you to do.”

Shitty thinks for a second. “Well, Lardo and I have been known to talk to each other for hours on end. Plus, if we’re good, Holly might let us behind the counter!”

Lards rolls her eyes. “As if agreeing to do free labor for her is some kind of reward for us.”

“Hey! Anything I can do to assist that goddamn angel of a woman is a reward in and of itself, brah.”

Eric chuckles. “Alright fine, but we’re walking. Shitty, I know you have a car, but that’s not part of the routine.”

Shitty groans. “Bittle you’ve gotta be fuckin me, that’s what? 30 minutes on foot? At least?”

“Yes, indeed it is. Now we better get moving, because I already told Holly that I would be there soon. I’ll just text her and let her know I’m bringing company! And I won’t have any complaining on the way there, this was your idea, Shitty!”

“More like a shitty idea,” Lardo grumbles.

“Lards, that joke doesn't get funnier with time, you know? Gets worse really. You need to work on originality, dude. Some new material would be refreshing.”

Eric smiles and walks out the door, Shitty and Lardo arguing behind him. They debate almost the whole way there; Lardo claims that the joke can’t possibly get old because it’s too classic and then moves on to defend the rest of her puns as well. Unfortunately for Lardo, Shitty’s argumentative prowess also applies to puns, apparently. He has a whole list of reasons why puns shouldn’t be recycled, as if he's already given it a lot of thought. At the 20 minute mark, Eric stops suddenly, his hands on his ears for dramatic effect. He turns around and yells at them, “You two knock it off! This is supposed to be my time for peaceful introspection! Stop arguing about puns!”

They stare at him, wide-eyed. Lardo clears her throat. “Oh, sorry, Bits...We’ll tone it down. Uh… Found any good recipes lately?”

Eric’s frown melts away. “Oh lord, yes actually! I came across one last night for raspberry muffins with chocolate chips and–”

He rambles for the remainder of the walk, Lardo and Shitty smiling endearingly and listening to him. He walks a little ways in front of them, chattering about how he’s planning on changing and improving the recipe. They interject with the occasional ‘mm-hm’ or ‘I think so, too,’ but mostly they let him talk.

When they finally get to Holly’s, they’re greeted by a large group of people crowding the door. Eric can see Holly inside, a little fearful and holding the doors shut. She spots Eric and mouths, “ _Help me_.” Eric starts to push through the crowd.

“EXCUSE ME, coming through, very important business to attend to, sorry about that, have you showered recently sir?”

Finally, the trio reaches the doors, and Holly lets them in. Her eyes widen when she sees Shitty and Lardo.

“Eric Bittle. It’s been a whole week, and you have neglected to mention that your new roommates are these two hooligans?”

“I guess it just never crossed my mind,” he says with an apologetic grin.

“Well, the more the merrier, I always say! Good to see y’all!” Holly says as Shitty jumps to assist her in keeping the door shut.

“Holly, what the hell is going on?” Lardo asks.

She sighs as she struggles against the door. “Eric, it’s your dang pies! People can’t seem to get enough of them, and word travels real fast around here. There’s only 2 mini pies left in the back and about 30 customers out there, which means big trouble.”

Eric gapes a little. “All of this? For _my_ pies?”

Holly grins at him proudly. “That’s right, now get to the kitchen, and start whipping some up. She turns to Shitty and Lardo. “Shitty, I’m gonna ask you to guard this door while I help Eric. Lardo, stay here and make sure nobody gets in until we’re ready. This one,” she jerks a thumb toward Shitty, “is not always the most reliable.”

He grins, not denying it. “We got this, Holl!”

She then cracks the door slightly and screams, “ _Now would y’all stop acting like a pack of wolves and be adults?!_ ”

The rush at the door stops, and some of the customers exchange embarrassed looks.

“I know y’all have places to be and whatnot, but with a little patience, I think we can take care of everybody and send you on your way!”

She closes the door and turns back to the trio, out of breath but smiling. “Alright team, let’s get to work!”

The day absolutely flies by. Eric trusts Holly with the recipe, so he shows her and she picks it up quickly. The two of them work perfectly with each other, knowing when the other needs a specific instrument or space on the counter. They time their baking perfectly so everything gets in and out of the oven as fast as possible, and as pies and minis come out of the oven Lardo packages them up and brings them out to the register while Shitty lets in people a few at a time. The mob dies down eventually as they work their way through, and within 2 hours or so the crowd is gone.

Holly swipes her hand across her forehead and leaves behind a trail of flour, at which Eric can’t help but to laugh.

“What? I haven’t said nothin!”

He points to her forehead and she laughs too, winking as she says, “Ah, the old flour crown. Thanks for the heads-up!”

Eric laughs at the pun and wipes his hands on his own apron, sighing and leaning against the counter.

“Holly, I know this sorta goes without saying, but that recipe has been in my family for generations, and I’d be mighty thankful if you kept it to yourself.”

“Of course, honey. I wouldn’t even dream of sharing it! Plus I wouldn’t want any other bakeries gettin’ hold of it.”

Shitty yells from out in the shop, “Bitty, get out here, and look who decided to show up!”

Eric is completely shocked to see Jack talking to Shitty and Lardo, his back to the kitchen.

“Oh my, Jack! What a pleasant surprise!” Holly says as she follows Eric out. Jack turns and smiles as she comes out from behind the counter and hugs him.

“Good to see you, Holly,” Jack says.

“Likewise, mister! It’s been months, where the hell have you been?”

Jack shrugs and Shitty says, “He’s been off ruling his kingdom of drama and sadness. Somehow Bitty here managed to pry him out!”

“What do you mean?” Eric asks.

Jack turns to Eric, who is still behind the register.

“I decided to take your advice and prove these two wrong.” He grins a little.

“Trust us Holly, we’re just as surprised as you are,” Lardo adds.

Eric feels almost faint. Had he really convinced Jack to leave his room? Had he really had that much of an effect? He looks at Jack, participating in a conversation with more than one person in a place that isn’t his room. It’s the first time he’s seen him like this. He’s wearing a short-sleeved red shirt that’s definitely a little too small for him, with a low V-neck that shows off just a little bit of his muscular chest. Eric recalls the many times Shitty has commented on the beauty that is Jack Zimmermann’s ass and can’t help but take a quick look. Wow, yeah, _that_ is a nice butt. Now, Jack’s presence is so much more real, and Eric feels like he’s seeing him as an actual person for the first time.

Suddenly, Eric feels teary-eyed and out of breath. Jack is absolutely beautiful. Eric is overwhelmed by a completely new yearning he’s never felt, almost terrifying in intensity. Before he can compose himself, he sees Shitty frown in his direction and say something to Lardo, while Jack and Holly are talking. Lardo nods at Shitty, who breaks from the group and heads for the counter. Eric sniffles, running back into the kitchen and wiping away the tears that have just started to fall.

“Bitty? Bro, you okay?”

He clears his throat and nods, sniffling again. “Fine! Just a little wiped out from all the baking is all.”

“Bullshit. You could bake exponentially longer and feel fine. What’s going on? You can tell me, brah. I won’t judge.”

He shrugs as another tear manages to escape from his eye. He angrily wipes it away and groans, plopping down onto a stool.

“Classic. You’ve got a little thing for Jack, huh?”

Eric looks up at him, eyes wide. “W-what? No, of course not! He’s with Kent. Right now, I’m just trying to focus on how different life suddenly is, and this new job, and the new house, and you guys are already so special to me. I don’t wanna do anything to throw all of that off, and besides I’ve only known him for a week and he’s so tall and good looking and I’m just–”

“Eric.”

He stops rambling. Did Shitty really just call him by his first name? That’s a first.

“You’re not _just_ anything. You’re Eric-fucking-Bittle, man, baker extraordinaire! What makes you think that Jack is like, hypothetically superior to you or something? You’ve got so many great qualities, Bits. Just think about that. If _I’ve_ only known you for a week and I can already see that, then why shouldn't _he_?”

Eric sniffs and shrugs. “Well he’s been a little preoccupied, I suppose. And we’ve talked a little bit, but not enough for him to know me the way you already do.”

Shitty shakes his head. “Bits, you’re totally right. I think for now it would be good to just focus on you, anyway. Listen, you’ll get through this. Don’t let one person bring your whole opinion of yourself down. There are thousands of guys out there who would be fucking lucky to have you, Bitty.”

“I guess so.”

“Well I _know_ so.”

Eric stands up and hugs Shitty, who returns the hug firmly. “I gotcha, little dude, don’t worry. One of these days we’re gonna find you someone even cuter, with an even better butt.”

“Is that possible?”

Shitty laughs and releases Eric from his arms, suddenly dead serious. “I guess we’ll have to see, man. I think this is definitely the beginning of a dece friendship. You came out to me and cried in my arms all within a week of meeting me. I rarely bond with _anybody_ this quickly, you know?”

Eric nods in agreement. There’s just something about Shitty, and Lardo too, that makes him feel so secure, almost like he’s known them for years. “I know, and I feel the same way.”

Shitty beams at him. “I’ll always have your back, okay Bitty? ‘Til the end.”

Eric smiles back. “‘Til the end.”

Shitty gently pats his chest. “Let’s go join the crew, cool?”

Eric nods, still feeling a bit teary eyed. “Is it obvious that I’ve been crying?”

“Nah, you’re fine. You can just tell them that you had some kind of fancy-ass spoon that you wanted to show me and you got a little emotional or something.”

Eric laughs, then says, “Hey, Shitty? Thanks again.”

“Don’t even mention it, brah, it’s what I’m here for. Just take a second and breathe, then come back out when you’re chill.”

Shitty exits the kitchen, leaving Eric alone with his heart still aching. He feels so stupid, why is Jack’s presence making him feel so alone? He guesses it’s because he’s never had anybody to call his own, and maybe jealousy. Shitty always commented on how Jack deserved so much better, and Eric agrees. Even if it isn’t him. Jack shouldn’t have to feel so trapped by Kent.

Despite that, he still feels blessed to have met Shitty and Lardo and Ransom and Holster, and it takes away some of the ache in his heart to think that there is so much ahead for all of them, together.

He sniffles one last time and smooths out his apron as he comes back into the main store. There are a few customers at the counter, whom Lardo and Shitty are taking care of. Despite her comment from earlier, it does look like Lardo is having a good time, but then again, that could just be because she’s working with Shitty.

There it is again, that punch of jealousy and longing. Maybe Lardo and Shitty aren’t a _thing_ yet, but they have so much potential. Who’s Eric to Jack? Probably nobody, just the annoying kid who sleeps on his damn floor. But then again, he _had_ taken Eric’s advice and come to the bakery...

Eric sees Holly and Jack sitting at a table in the corner. Jack’s eyes are sad, and it appears that Holly is chastising him for something. Jack nods solemnly at something Holly says, and Eric attempts to read his lips to see what they’re talking about but can’t figure it out. He sighs and joins Lardo and Shitty behind the register. He’s distracted though, he keeps glancing past the customers, over at the corner where Jack and Holly are still talking.

Lardo notices and follows his gaze. “Bits? Everything okay? Shitty told me you were a little down earlier.”

“I’m fine, but thanks. I’m just dealin’ with some things.”

Lardo again glances over at the table and smiles sympathetically at Eric. “I think they’re talking about Parse. Shitty said something about how depressed Jack’s been with Parse here and Holly wasn’t having any of it. From the little snippets I heard before Holly asked us to take over, she wants the fucker gone.” Her smile broadens.

“God bless that woman,” Eric breathes.

“A-fucking-greed. And don’t tell Shitty I said this, but I kinda do like working the counter here. Even if I’m not getting paid.”

“My lips are sealed!” Eric laughs.

“Atta boy. Now grab me that last pie from the back, that dude coming in now was definitely here, like, an hour ago, and he’s probably coming back for more.”

Eric starts to head back, but notices that Jack and Holly have both left their seats, still talking while heading toward the counter. Holly pats Jack’s shoulder affectionately and gives him a stern nod, and Eric tears his gaze away and hurries into the kitchen.

As he’s reaching up to get the last pie on the shelf, he hears someone come into the kitchen. He looks around and sees Holly walking towards him briskly. He frowns.

“Everything okay?”

“Put the pie down.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said put the pie down!”

Eric recoils a bit as he sets the pie on the counter. “Why?” he asks slowly.

“So I can do this!” Holly steps toward him and lightly smacks the back of his head. He flinches, bringing his hands to the spot where her hand had connected.

“OW! Good lord Holly, what did I do?”

“Eric Bittle, you’ve been sleeping on a rug for a week, and you neglected to tell me?! There’s an extra room at my house that you could have taken until the whole Kent Parson _thing_ resolves!”

He laughs a little, relieved that he hasn’t done anything wrong. “Holly, you don’t have to worry about me! Us Bittles, we’re strong folks, it’s not anything that I can’t handle!”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Alright, but if Monday rolls around and you’re still living like a damn hobo, you’re moving your ass into my house until your room is vacant. Understood?”

He nods and she nods back. “Good. Alright onto the next thing. My sister from California has a birthday coming up and I’d like to send her a cake—yes Eric, I’ve mailed full cakes before, don’t worry—but I want you to make it.”

“Really?”

“Really! Your baking has a flair, the vigor of youth, maybe, that I appear to have forgotten. I make her the same cake every year, but this year I want it to feel special. She’s turning 50, so it can’t just be my average annual cake, got it?”

“Should I feel pressured?”

“Just a tad. Get to work!”

Holly gives Eric the recipe, and he follows it exactly, not wanting to let her down. He can hear Shitty and Lardo still chilling and messing around at the stools in front of the counter, and when he pokes his head out he’s surprised to see Jack is still there too. He sighs and gets back to work, pouring the batter into three cake pans and popping them in the oven. His mind starts to wander as he waits for them to bake.

He thinks about what it would be like to have a boyfriend. He’s sure that it can’t be _everything_ it’s made out to be, but that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing. About things like taking walks and holding hands, or sitting around in sweatpants and binge watching lame TV shows, or cuddling in bed at night and having someone to kiss goodnight. He then realizes with a start that he’s accidentally picturing doing all of these things with Jack and his heart starts to hurt all over again.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Bittle,” he says to himself.

He can’t stop though. As much as it hurts, he also manages to find some comfort in picturing what it might be like to date Jack Zimmermann. It’s all very idealistic and probably not very accurate; after all Eric doesn’t know much about Jack. But he imagines going on a date to a skating rink—Eric had been a figure skater for a good part of his life—and skating hand in hand and falling on the ice and kissing Jack in the rink and-

“Eric? Do I smell something burning?”

He snaps back to reality. Holly is poking her head into the kitchen, a look of concern on her face. Eric suddenly smells it too.

“Oh, damn it!”

He pulls the oven open and is greeted by a small cloud of smoke. He coughs and waves his hand in front of his face, now more miserable than before.

“Holly I’m so sorry, I got distracted and lost track of time!”

Eric doesn’t like to use physical timers. His internal baking clock is so fine-tuned that he can essentially set _himself_ to be the timer, but he doesn’t usually daydream so vividly while baking. He feels disoriented and disappointed in himself.

Holly sighs. “That’s okay, just start again. These things happen honey, no use beatin’ yourself up over it!”

He nods and gets the ingredients back out, starting from the beginning, something all too familiar for him these days.

 _I'm daydreaming' with my chin in the palm of my hand_ _  
_ _About you, you, and only you_

By the time the second cake is done baking, the sun is starting to set. Eric lets it cool and begins to frost it when Jack comes into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway.

“Oh! Hello. Did you need something?”

“No, just wanted to let you know I’m gonna head back to the house. Thanks again for the advice Bittle, I had a nice time today. Even though I didn’t see very much of you, eh?”

Eric felt a soft blush coming on. “Yeah, that’s a shame. Glad you enjoyed yourself!”

“Yeah, thanks. Talk to you later.”

“Later,” Eric breathes as Jack leaves the room.

He hears Holly calls after Jack, “Hey Zimmermann, good luck tonight! Don’t forget, you’re allowed to go to your friends for support!” She then comes into the kitchen, smiling knowingly.

“What was that about?”

“Oh, I think you’ll see soon enough. It isn’t my business to say at the moment.”

Eric raises an eyebrow but inquires no further. He quickly finishes icing the cake and Holly lets him, Shitty, and Lardo go, thanking them for all of their work that day. The walk home is a little quiet, and Eric guesses that they’re all wondering what Holly was talking about when she wished Jack luck. Then, Eric thinks back to the night he had caught Jack writing in his notebook and actually gasps out loud. This earns him strange looks from Shitty and Lardo, but neither says anything.

When they get home, Eric’s theory is confirmed. The trio walks through the door just as an argument is starting to brew.

“So you’ll go and spend a whole day at a fucking bakery with those idiots but you won’t talk to me for more than two minutes, except to say that you think we should break up?”

“Kenny, stop yelling. I’m not having this fight anymore. I just...I won’t do it anymore. You need to leave.”

“That’s a good one, Zimms! You don’t wanna admit it, but we both know the second I leave you’re gonna fall apart. You can’t live without me.”

“You’re wrong. I-I’ll be better off without you.”

The two boys are standing in the foyer, Parse’s back to the trio as they awkwardly come through the front door. None of them know what to do, so they just stand and watch.

“Who was the one who found you on that damn bathroom floor? Who’s the one who’s been by your side for years, through the mental illness and the hospitals and the destruction of your fucking career? You can’t just end it after all of that!”

“Yes, I can, and I will.” Jack takes a deep breath. “ _I am_. It’s over, Kenny. It really is time for you to go.”

“No. No, _NO,_ I’m not leaving Jack. You fucking need me.”

“Are you sure it isn’t the other way around?” Jack asks coldly.

Kent screams in frustration and grabs a book from a shelf, throwing it vaguely in Jack’s direction.

Lardo starts to rush toward Kent but Shitty grabs her. “Hold on Lards, I think Jack’s got this one.”

“FUCK YOU JACK ZIMMERMANN, FUCK YOU. YOU’RE A LAZY, UNMOTIVATED, LUMP OF A PERSON, AND YOU’RE THROWING YEARS DOWN THE DRAIN. FUCK. YOU.”

Jack remains where he is, trembling but not backing down either. “What are you gonna do Kent, hit me again?”

Kent drops the book in his hand. “Jack…”

“I shouldn’t have ever forgiven you for that, and I see that now. You’re... you’re an abuser, you’re manipulative, you’re violent... I don’t know why I ever loved you in the first place.”

Kent is crying now, on his knees in the middle of the floor, books strewn around him. “Wait, Jack, I’m sorry. You know I would never do it again, please, you just have to give me another chance.”

Jack shakes his head. “Not this time. I’m done giving you second chances.”

Kent’s voice breaks. “Jacky, please...”

Jack stands silent and Shitty releases Lardo, joining Jack and placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get his stuff,” he murmurs.

Kent is still on the ground pleading with Jack, who refuses to say anything else. Lardo joins Shitty in gathering Parse’s possessions, bringing them down and dumping them unceremoniously at his knees. Eric just watches, frozen in his spot near the door. Jack is finally standing up to Kent and it’s the most amazing thing Eric has ever seen.

Lardo helps a crying Kent up and drags his suitcases to the door. Shitty already called a cab.

“Jack, wait...where do I go now?”

Jack looks down and shrugs. “Back to Vegas? I don’t really care, I’m fucking done. I’m just... done” At that he turns and runs up the stairs.

Kent turns to Eric. “ _You_. This is your fault, you son of a bitch! You’re the one who started putting ideas in his head, I’m fucking sure of it. I don’t care what Jack says, I’m not finished here.” He wipes his eyes and sniffs angrily, pulling his suitcases violently out the door. Shitty closes it behind him and turns around, leaning against it.

“Holy fucking Christ, my dudes. He’s gone...”

Lardo opens her mouth, a little dazed, but doesn’t say anything.

Shitty turns to Eric. “Do you wanna...?”

Eric nods, understanding. “I’ll go check on him.”

He knocks three times softly, pushing the door open. Jack is lying on his bed, knees to his chest, sobbing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just gonna move my stuff but I’ll go–”

Jack looks up at him. “Don’t. Please, don’t go.”

“Oh,” he repeats. “Yeah, I can stay, if you want...”

Jack nods, chest heaving with another sob. Eric sits down on the bed, his hand on Jack’s knee.

“Jack. What you just did? That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. Kent Parson is a scary guy. And you stood up to him. You can finally be free. He was tying you down, you know that, right? _You’re free now_.” Eric tries to emphasize those last words as much as possible, because it’s true. The the atmosphere in the house is already lighter, even with the lingering tension from the encounter. Ransom and Holster would be in for a surprise when they got back.

Jack sits up and wipes his face on his shirt. “Eric...thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I’m just telling you the truth. You’re amazing, no matter what happens next.” He squeezes Jack’s knee and smiles.

Jack smiles back, the most genuine and beautiful thing Eric has ever seen. Suddenly Eric feels right at home.

“I feel like I can finally start to live again, as corny as that sounds.” Jack mutters.

Eric shakes his head as he hands Jack a box of tissues. “I think it’s empowering, eh?” he teases.

Jack manages a short laugh. How those eyes manage to shine bluer, prettier despite the tears, Eric hasn’t a clue. He feels an overwhelming surge of emotions rise in his chest, threatening to overflow and bring more tears. This time however, a new emotion is added into the mix, small and distant and fragile—but still there.

Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande


	6. he got me good, i got it bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [About the Boy by Little Mix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nH-a7jBUlF0)

 “Hey y’all, so good to finally be able to talk to you again! I know it’s only been about a week, but it feels like a lifetime. So, things are good! The move was nice and easy and everyone in the house is so nice! There’s Shitty—still not quite sure what his actual first name is now that I think of it—Lardo, Ransom, Holster, and Jack. Until today I was sleeping on Jack’s floor, but I’ll tell that story later, there’s so much to catch up on! First of all, my job at the bakery is _amazing, y’all_. I’m the only employee besides the owner, Holly, who is the biggest sweetheart I’ve ever met. Anyway, she lets me try out all of my new recipes and ideas in her big, fancy kitchen so that’s been a lot of fun already! Also–”

He’s interrupted by a soft knock at his door. He sighs impatiently and pauses the recording, scrambling out of his chair to open the door. Jack is standing outside Eric’s room, a slightly concerned frown on his face.

“Who are you talking to?”

Eric sighs again. “Jack, I’m trying to film my big return vlog. My 500 followers have been tweeting at me all week that they’ve missed me, so I owe them an update!”

“So you’re talking to all 500 of them?”

“No, Mr. Zimmermann, I’m talking to my laptop camera. After I’m all talked out, I’ll take the footage, do some light editing, and then post it for them to watch.”

Jack scratches his cheek. He looks different; after Parse left he’d finally shaved and gone to get a haircut. Now he’d ditched the commonly seen oversized sweater for a slightly baggy t-shirt.

“It sounds a little silly.”

“So does getting up at the crack of dawn just to run around the block!”

Jack smiles a bit. “You don’t get to chirp me for that, you’re up almost as early to get to the bakery!”

Eric opens his mouth to say something, but has no response. Jack’s smile widens. “Sorry for interrupting, you can go on talking to your laptop now.”

Eric groans and rolls his eyes but flashes Jack a quick smile before shutting the door. He slumps back into his chair and presses record again.

“Sorry for the weird cut y’all, that was Jack, my neighbor. He’s not too big on technology, so he doesn’t really understand the whole vlogging thing, bless his heart. I can’t be too hard on him though, he just went through a pretty nasty breakup. Seems to be handling it well, though! Sorry, I’m getting off topic, let me just tell y’all about this new cookie recipe that I found the other day...”

Life in the house falls into a routine fairly quickly once Kent is gone. Over the next 2 weeks, Eric goes to the bakery around seven every morning and a few times he comes across Jack on a run. His heart flutters whenever it happens. In the cool summer mornings, Jack often keeps his head warm with a beanie that Eric finds absolutely adorable. These encounters are often just a nod, or a casual wave as Jack passes, but it’s all enough to bring Eric’s heart rate up and make his mind wander for the rest of the day. Eric doesn’t run, and he has no plans to start, but he thinks that for Jack, he just might make an exception.

Eric isn’t very good at hiding how distracted he is. He’s too distracted to even think about hiding it.

“Eric, honey, that’s the third time you’ve washed that bowl. Something on your mind?”

He sighs. “Sorry ma’am, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my head recently.”

Holly smiles. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

Eric laughs and shakes his head.

Holly tries again, slowly. “A boy?”

No response from Eric.

“Aha! I can always tell when someone’s got a crush brewing, Bittle. You need to talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’ll get over it soon enough, hopefully.”

She frowns slightly. “You’re almost as bad as that Jack Zimmermann.” Eric’s breath catches slightly. “Darlin’, you can’t just keep everything to yourself. You’ve got some great company where you’re livin’! Even if you don’t wanna talk about it with me, you should talk to one of them at least. No use just holding everything in, it isn’t good for ya!”

“Yes, ma’am, I guess you’re right...”

 

“Alright y’all, I’m taking a break from our regularly scheduled baking talk to provide you with a different kind of entertainment. If you just came for a recipe, now would be the time to turn the video off, because, folks, that ain’t happenin’ today! Alright, so,” he sighs, and pauses. Where to even begin?

“I guess things started when I met my neighbor, Jack. The one who interrupted a couple days ago? Y’all haven’t seen him, but dear lord, that boy is one tall glass of handsome. He’s a hockey player, or rather, he was, I guess? Either way, he’s still muscular and manly and everything, but he also has these beautiful blue eyes that remind me of clear Georgia skies back home. So I guess this sorta goes without saying, but I’ve developed a bit of a crush, which is a first for me. And it’s confusing, and distracting, and positively annoying. It’s like, he’s all I can think about anymore. I’ve burned two pies in the last week, and I don’t think I burned two pies in my whole damn life before that!

“I don’t know how to describe how I feel exactly, which is the most frustrating part of it. It’s like, I’m always happy to see him, but he also makes me really sad? Almost like chocolate covered pretzels, there’s the salty and the sweet.” He pauses. “Ok, so my metaphors need some work... Any of y’all have advice? How long do I have to wait for this to pass? It’s driving me a little loopy and I think my friends are starting to notice, but I don’t know how to talk to them about it without being weird. My good pal, Shitty, knows, but I’ve never done any of this before, and I always kinda assumed I would be too focused on getting a job and starting a life to even _think_ about boys, so I’m just a little bit thrown off... Anyway, I think that’s it for today. I’ll be back with some more baking for y’all real soon, thanks for watching!”

He sighs and closes his laptop. He does feel a little bit better, but having a real conversation with a tangible human would probably be preferable. He bites the inside of his lip, considering whether or not to bother Shitty on his Sunday morning. Holly has decided that since she can’t control how many hours Eric works at the bakery—mainly because he won’t let her—she should at least give Eric Sundays off, which essentially means forbidding him to come into work. The bakery isn’t open on Sundays, but Eric knows that Holly still goes and spends the day baking to keep their goods in stock.

Finally he stands up, his mind is set. He can’t just mope in his room all day. He’s going to talk to Shitty.

He finds Shitty curled up in the reading nook, nose buried in a book entitled _The Rise of 21st Century Feminism_. He smiles as Shitty looks up, smiling back and returning to his book. Eric sits down on the ledge, opposite Shitty, his back to the wall and his knees to his chest.

“Sup, Bits?” Shitty asks without looking up from his book.

“Not much. Still not completely sure what to do with this time off. Especially because you won’t even let me touch the damn oven.”

Shitty laughs and closes the book, setting it down next to him and copying Eric’s sitting position so their feet are touching.

“You need a break from baking, brah, you’ll thank me later.”

Eric rolls his eyes but nods, exhaling deeply and staring out the window.

“Did you need to talk about something?”

Eric nods.

“‘Swawesome! I’m your man, giving advice is my favorite pastime. Well, besides hockey. Oh, and partying, obviously.”

Eric laughs nervously. “So, about Jack...”

Shitty’s smile drops a bit and the mood shifts. He sits up a little straighter. “Oh. Yeah of course, talk to me.”

Eric sighs. “Shitty, I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know how to describe how I’ve been feeling lately. When Jack kicked Parse out, I couldn’t help but thinking that now there was one less thing stopping us from becoming a thing. Which is really dumb, and thinking too many steps ahead, and I’m trying not to get my hopes up here because I do like things the way they are now, and I would never wanna wreck that! So I’m just...confused. And sad.”

“Crushes are no fun at all, Bits, trust me, I know. It’s a fuckin' awful position to be in. I wish I could help more, but there isn’t much to do, unfortunately. You just gotta ride it out and hope someone else comes along to take your mind off of him. It might help if you tried talking to him?”

Eric’s eyes widen. “Not likely. I would be mortified if he ever found out, Shits.”

“Bitty, Jack’s a cool guy. He’d probably understand. Until you know exactly how he feels, all you’re gonna do is worry and think about worst-case scenarios. It’s not good for you, dude. Sometimes you just gotta fuckin yolo that shit. If you tell him, it would probably go one of two ways. He could either be flattered but not return the feelings, or maybe he feels the same way.”

“Don’t even say that! It’s not gonna happen, so I don’t wanna think about it. Besides, it’s only been a couple of weeks since...Parse. Wouldn’t it be sorta unfair to suddenly spring all of this on him?”

Shitty thinks for a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But only about that second part! Stop selling yourself short, Bitty, you’re a goddamn catch.”

Suddenly Jack comes down the stairs, smiling a bit as he notices Eric and Shitty sitting the way they are.

“What are you two up to?”

Eric almost falls off the seat. “Um, uh, we were just–”

“Discussing feminism!” Shitty holds up the book. “Riveting shit, Jack. You should totally read this when I’m done.”

“Hm. Maybe I will.” And with that, Jack walks into the kitchen.

Eric takes a deep breath and tries to slow his heart rate.

“Hey, you know what’s coming up? Week from tomorrow?”

Eric counts out the days in his head. “Oh, Fourth of July!”

“You bet your ass! What better day to start off Smashfest 2017, am I right? And there’s nothing like a house full of drunk hot guys to take your mind off a crush.”

Eric smiles. “That does sound like a good time. I’m not really the type to, um, hook up or anything, though.”

“Totally fine, my bro, sometimes looking is enough.”

Eric nods and smiles appreciativel.

“Yo, Bits, I’m really glad you feel comfortable enough talking about this shit with me. I know you said it’s all kinda new to you, and it can be scary and confusing and overwhelming and shit.”

Eric nods. “You can say that again. Thank you for listening, Shitty, I’ll let you get back to your feminism now.”

“Alright, brah, hang in there!”

 _He got me good,_ __  
_I got it bad, he got me feelin' like a boy gone mad_  
_Got me runnin' around like I'm a love fool_

_Takin' me down I can't stop_

Eric sleeps in a little bit on the Fourth of July, but still goes into work. Apparently, Holly knows all about the wonders of Smashfest.

“Oh for sure! I even went to one of the parties last year.”

Eric raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“I know, I don’t really seem the type. Plus it was mostly young gentleman wearing very little clothes and drinkin’ as much as possible. Shitty asked if I could deliver some cake and then refused to let me leave when I got there, so I humored him and stayed. It’s not really my scene, but I think you’ll enjoy yourself! Just stay safe, sweetheart.” She pats him on the cheek.

That’s essentially the last time Eric and Holly are able to speak to each other that day. The bakery is absolutely swamped with people trying to stock up on Eric’s apple pie for the holiday, so he’s in the kitchen all day. Around six, the crowd has died down, so Holly lets Eric head back home.

He quickly showers and gets changed, then heads downstairs to help with preparations.

The Fourth of July is a special night in the house. Lardo and Shitty grill burgers and hot dogs outside while Eric, Ransom, and Holster start to get the interior ready. According to Shitty, there are three more people coming that night, rising seniors at Samwell who were just freshmen when Jack and Shitty were still around. They all played hockey together, and spending the Fourth as a team is basically tradition.

The fridge is stocked with beer and there are various bottles of alcohol decorating the counters in the kitchen. Eric assumes that it’s supposed to last the whole week, because he can’t possibly see how less than ten people could drink that much in one night and not get alcohol poisoning. Of course, Shitty also told him that later in the week he would be inviting lots of other people, too.

It’s around seven when there’s a knock at the door. Shitty jumps out of his seat and cheers, rushing to the front to open it. Eric peeks out from the open door of the kitchen, eager to meet who his friends have been referring to as “The Frogs.”

“ _DUDES, HAPPY FUCKING SMASHFEST!_ ”

He pulls them each into a bone crushing hug and lets them in. They each have a single backpack.

“Hey Bitty, come meet the guys!”

Eric emerges from the kitchen, a little bit of flour on his clothes. He had decided earlier that he should make a few apple pies for his friends, too.

“Alright, everybody this is Eric Bittle, better known as Bitty. Just wait until you taste this guy’s cooking.”

The first boy shakes Eric’s hand. “Sup? I’m Nursey. Smells good in here!”

The second just raises his hand in greeting. “Dex,” then links his arm with Nursey’s. Shitty raises an eyebrow but makes no comment.

“Oh my gosh, Shitty told me that you’re actually a baker! That is like, so cool. I tried baking once but it didn’t go very well, I didn’t know it was possible to make box cake mix wrong. I’m Chowder by the way, nice to meet you!”

Eric smiles. “Nice to meet y’all! I have a couple pies in the oven so I have to attend to that, but I’m sure we’ll talk more later!”

Shitty pulls Eric aside as the three boys start to chat.

“Okay so here’s the deal. I’m pretty sure you can keep your room for now? Those three are gonna be here all week, but I think I can put them all in my room. Rans and Holtz will most likely be passed out on the floor every night so they're offering that room up. They should all fit, because it looks like Dex and Nursey may be sharing a bed...”

“Is that strange?”

“Just a smidge. They’re the defensemen on the team, and when they were freshman, all they ever did was fight, like constantly. Totally awesome players, but the chemistry was rank. I guess they grew out of that but I never thought they would...Well anyway, I just wanted to let you know what’s going on. Smashfest tends to get disorganized as the week goes on, especially when the bigger parties start, so I’d suggest locking your room for those.”

“Alright Shitty, thanks for the heads up! So... _more_ gay hockey players?”

Shitty laughs. “I know, right? That’s Samwell for you though, one of the most LGBT-friendly schools in the country. Okay, you get back to those pies. I’m looking forward to inhaling multiple pieces tonight, Bits, so you better not screw them up!”

“Me? Screw up a pie? How much have you had to drink already, Shitty?”

Shitty punches him lightly on the shoulder then attends to the three boys. Eric heads back into the kitchen, feeling jealous again. He doesn't even know Dex and Nursey, but the way they so casually linked arms and seemed to fit together is enough to create a knot in his stomach that won’t go away.

They eat outside on a gigantic blanket, picnic-style. Jack joins them briefly, just to say hello to their guests and grab some food, but he’s back inside in less than twenty minutes.

Shitty sighs. “The dude doesn’t like to party. Even when the party is just his friends getting wasted and shooting shit at the sky.”

Eric’s eyes widen. “Wait, what was that last bit?”

Chowder seems to share his concern. “Are fireworks even legal here? Is it gonna be safe if we’re all drunk?”

Nursey cuts in. “Chow, chill. Shitty has me on firework detail and I’m not planning to drink much, at least tonight.”

Dex sighs and puts his burger down. “Okay but what if you do get hurt? Crazier things have happened.”

Nurses kisses him on the cheek. “I’ll be fine, Shitty didn’t secure anything too intense.”

“AWW, my best friends are the cutest couple ever!” Chowder’s comment eases the tension in the air and everybody laughs as the couple’s faces go a little pink.

Eric glances over at Shitty and Lardo and notices that their hands are extremely close, almost to the point of touching. Ransom is practically in Holster’s lap; his legs are draped over Holster’s and they’re feeding each other pie. Cliche, but adorable. As lonely as he’s been feeling lately, it _is_ sweet to see so much romance in one house.

The rest of the meal is casual and light, and everybody enjoys the delicious food that Shitty and Lardo have prepared. Besides the dogs and burgers, they’ve also grilled some corn on the cob and Lardo’s prepared a fruit salad, so there’s plenty of food to go around.

The mood in the air shifts when Eric brings out two pies, one in each hand. Shitty sits up a little straighter and Lardo rolls her eyes, Chowder gasps and claps. Eric smiles bashfully as he sets them down, cutting them carefully into slices and distributing them among his friends.

The next few minutes are silent, save for the moans of pleasure brought on by Eric’s pie. He has a small piece himself and enjoys it quietly, basking in the non-verbal compliments he’s receiving. Almost everybody has seconds. Shitty has fourths. Finally, Eric takes the last piece and stands up.

“I’m gonna take this up to Jack, be right back!”

Shitty gives him a lazy nod and collapses into the grass behind him, sleepy and full. In fact, everybody is a little sleepy looking, and Eric begins to wonder if a party is even gonna happen. He smiles and shakes his head as he takes the pie back inside.

He knocks on the door gently. “Jack? It’s Eric.”

He waits a second and the door opens. Jack is wearing shorts and a hoodie. His window is open and a breeze blows through his room.

“I brought you some pie. You can’t celebrate the Fourth without pie, the very idea is sacrilege!” Jack smiles a bit and takes the plate from Eric.

“Thanks, Bittle. How’s your night going?”

He shrugs. “It’s nice! Those boys are so sweet, and Nursey and Dex are just the cutest!”

Jack nods. “We’re all a bit surprised to see them together, but they do seem happy.”

Eric nods. “So why are you up here all alone? I figured today, at least, you’d join the festivities!”

“I...I don’t know. Seeing them reminds me of my senior year, and how we made it so far in our series, just to lose.”

“But you live with Shitty and Lardo, and Ransom and Holster are here all the time! Don’t they remind you of that, too?”

“It’s different. They’ve already moved on, just like I have. But now, seeing those frogs as seniors...It’s just weird. I’m sorry. I’m not making much sense.”

“It’s okay, I think I sorta get it. You just gotta take your time, Jack, things will get easier.”

He smiles again. “You’re right, thanks, Bittle. And thanks for the pie.”

“Not a problem, enjoy it!”

By the time he gets back downstairs, the backyard is already cleaned up and beers have already been opened. Shitty claps him on the back and shoves a can into his hand.

“Whether or not you’re getting totally wasted, you’re still partaking in the first beer of Smashfest. Yet another tradition,” he explains.

“Y’all seem to have a lot of traditions, considering the event in question is a week of parties.”

Lardo sidles up and joins the conversation. “True, but it helps with consistency. See, the point of Smashfest is not simply to get smashed, my naive friend. Smashfest is about friendship, and coming together, and knowing that no matter how crazy life is, we’ll always have a week together to just go fucking crazy!”

Eric laughs. “Well, when you put it that way...”

Holster yells from in the kitchen, “Shitty, it’s too quiet in here, mind if I put on some music?”

Shitty yells back, “Go right ahead! And remember kids, let’s avoid slurs and sexist language!”

Ransom and Holster both groan and Ransom replies, “Ok, give us a sec to adjust the playlist then. Tunes’ll be up shortly!”

Lardo rolls her eyes. “Shits, don’t ruin their fun.”

He looks at her defensively. “What? We don’t need offensive music to have a good time. Like that one week your junior year when you were studying for finals and all you listened to was ABBA, and–”

“ _YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER SPEAK OF IT!_ ”

Eric giggles as Lardo chases Shitty around the house, laughing and trying to steal his beer.

Eric sees Dex and Nursey talking in a corner, Nursey’s hand on Dex’s arm and his other on his shoulder. Eric inches a little closer.

“–because I thought we would have a room to ourselves!”

“Hey, you can’t let this ruin the week Dex. Chowder is our bro, and he’ll be sleeping on that shitty little air mattress he brought as it is.”

“I know, I was just...hoping we would have some alone time.”

Nursey scoots in a little closer. “I’m sure we will at some point, don’t worry.” He kisses Dex, who then notices Eric approaching. They separate a little bit.

“Hey, Bitty right?”

He sighs, accepting that Bitty is essentially his name now. “Yeah, that’s right.” Nursey turns to him. “How long you been here?”

Eric thinks for a second. “A little over a month, I think.”

Nursey nods. “You like it?”

“Oh, absolutely! Right from the beginning, Shitty and Lardo were so nice and helpful, and even Jack’s gotten used to me being here. It was real bad at first. I was sleeping on Jack’s floor because Parse was in my room.”

Dex winces. “So you were here for the whole Parse incident then?”

“Y’all heard about that?”

Nursey nods. “Shitty and Lardo went crazy in our group chat. Said Jack finally put the bastard in his place. I thought it was the coolest shit.”

“It was pretty amazing to see. So, how long have you two been together?”

They look at each other for a second. Dex replies, “A couple weeks. Maybe a month?”

“Wow really? Is that all? Y’all just seem so...natural together.”

Nursey shrugs. “Well we’ve known each other for three years now. Kinda hated each other’s guts freshman year. Then sophomore year we both got over that–”

“Well _I_ did,” Dex interjects. Nursey laughs.

“Fine. I had a hard time getting over myself, but we got there. And then this year, we realized we have more in common than we thought.”

“Yeah, for sure. I think we played better this year once we decided we could be friends. And then we spent a lot of time together, and this just sorta happened.” He put his hand in Nursey’s.

“That’s adorable, I’m happy for you two!”

Nursey smiles. “Thanks, Bitty! What about you? Is there a girl? A guy?”

“Um, no, not really...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well is it no, or not really?”

“It’s, um, I–”

Dex chuckles and Nursey puts a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Chill, bro. I’m messing with you.”

Eric sighs and laughs a little.

Shitty screams from the kitchen, “BEER PONG CHAMPIONSHIP, COME ONE, COME ALL!”

The three boys quickly head to the kitchen to see that Lardo has already set up a huge game of beer pong, 15 cups on each side of the table.

Eric raises an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t 15 an awful lot?”

“Not when I never have to drink any!” She then turns to the Ransom and Holster, who have just turned on the music. A pounding beat flows through the house and suddenly Eric feels energized. Not energized enough to take on Lardo in beer pong, though. “Alright boys, who’s my first challenger? I have a title to uphold here!”

Ransom and Holster exchange a glance. Holster steps up, looking slightly nervous. “I got this!”

Lardo smiles and shakes her head. “That’s what you think.” She then takes her first shot, landing a ping pong ball right in the middle cup of Holster’s back row. He frowns.

“Shit, already? Don’t you think challenger should take the first shot?” She rolls her eyes. “Fine, go ahead.”

He smiles triumphantly and picks up another ball, tossing it gently. It bounces off the rim of one of the cups and hits the floor.

Lardo then grabs another ball and makes the same exact shot as before, landing in the same exact cup.

“This is bullshit, nobody can win against her!” Holster complains.

“Giving up already Holtzy?” she asks playfully.

He growls and picks up another ball. “You wish.”

The game goes on for 6 turns until Holster finally does give up. He doesn’t even drink all 6 cups of beer, he forces Ransom to down half of them.

Shitty refills the cups and Lardo bounces a ball on the table impatiently. “Come on, that can’t be it. _Somebody_ has to at least give it a shot!”

Eric looks around. Chowder is shaking his head, Nursey is jokingly trying to persuade Dex, and Shitty has decided that something outside looks mighty interesting. _Fuck it_.

Eric steps up to the table. “I suppose I’ll give it a go.”

Shitty’s attention returns to the table. “Alright Bits, take her down!”

She glares at him.

“What? You win every year! Everybody else knows they can’t beat you, but we’ve never seen Bitty play. My money’s on him,” Shitty says, coming closer to the table and grinning.

“Shitty please don’t bet any actual money on me, I’ve never done this in my life.”

Lardo throws a ball to Eric impatiently, but she also looks a little nervous. The room goes quiet bar the pounding beat as Eric takes a deep breath, the tip of his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he gently tosses the ball.

Lardo’s eyes widen as the ball lands in the same cup she landed on Holster and the room goes crazy.

“What the actual literal fuck Bitty Bittle?!”

“SWAWESOME!”

“Dude, nice shot!”

Lardo is gaping, a little in shock. “L-lucky shot,” she stammers. Eric knows she’s probably right, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just destroyed her.

The rest of the game doesn’t go in his favor. He makes one or two more shots but Lardo never misses. Shitty insists on drinking most of the beer for Eric because “You’re just a tiny little dude, you shouldn’t have this much. It isn’t healthy.”

“That’s hilarious, coming from you,” Eric jokes.

Finally, Shitty brings out a plastic bag full of fireworks. Earlier Eric had been wary, but now he was a little buzzed and full of so much energy that the danger factor doesn't seem to matter. Nursey sets up the fireworks and grabs a lighter, setting them off one by one and standing back to enjoy the view. Eric feels content in the cool summer night. Ransom and Holster are lying on their backs, looking up at the sky. Dex is nervously standing just outside the sliding doors, watching as his boyfriend sets off the fireworks. Eric sits between Shitty and Lardo on a blanket. Shitty’s arm is thrown around him and Lardo’s head is on his shoulder. It’s perfect, except someone is missing.

Eric glances up at the second floor of the house. The bathroom window is dark, but Eric gasps when the next firework illuminates a figure looking out over the lawn. Jack.

Eric quickly turns to face where the fireworks are. Shitty and Lardo are both too drunk to really notice anything wrong, but Eric wishes Jack would join them. Still, how adorable is it that Jack wants to watch the fireworks anyway? Eric is used to dealing with conflicting emotions lately, and his buzz doesn’t make that any easier. He decides it’s probably best to try to forget about Jack for tonight and enjoy the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one!! The next, like, 5 chapters or so are gonna be partying just for a heads up, but I promise I'll make it interesting :)
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix


	7. you're toxic, i'm slipping under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Toxic by Britney Spears](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOZuxwVk7TU)

Eric wakes up at around noon on Tuesday July 5th. The entire house is silent, save for the occasional clink from the kitchen downstairs. Eric yawns and stretches, rolling out of bed lazily and brushing his teeth.

He heads downstairs, walking slowly through the hallway. Jack’s door is ajar but his room is vacant, and Shitty’s room is quiet. He winces as the top stair creaks and he carefully descends in his sweatpants and sleeveless shirt, darting past Lardo’s room as quickly as possible. She’s a light sleeper and doesn’t like to be disturbed.

Shitty is passed out on the couch, his head dangling off one of the sides and his limbs sprawled in all directions. Eric chuckles as he heads into the kitchen, jumping a little as he sees that Jack is sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in his left hand and Shitty’s book _The Rise of 21st Century Feminism_ in his right.

“Oh! Jack! Good morning!”

Jack looks up.

“Morning, Bittle. Sleep okay?”

Eric shrugs. “Yeah, I guess! I was so used to sleeping on the floor that a bed still feels almost wrong.”

Jack cracks a small smile. “At least you had that rug, eh?”

“That rug was horrendous, I’ve slept in thorn bushes softer than that old thing.”

He reaches into the fridge for some ingredients but hears Jack chuckle behind him. A chill creeps up his spine. The low, early morning (or afternoon, really) raspiness in Jack’s voice does things to him that he would never admit to anybody.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

Eric emerges from the fridge with milk and eggs, turning back to Jack as he uses his hip to push the door shut.

“Yeah, it was a nice time! Lards creamed me in beer pong and Shitty got dangerously close to stealing Nursey’s lighter and doing the fireworks himself, but my pie seemed to get rave reviews from everybody!”

Jack smirks. “What, as if rave reviews from the entire town aren’t enough?”

Eric blushes but he’s at the stove now, his back to Jack again.

“It was nice pie, by the way. I can see why everybody likes it so much,” Jack adds quickly.

And now he was complimenting his baking? Eric feels like he needs to sit down.

“Why thank you, Mr. Zimmermann! If you’re lucky, there’ll be more later in the week.”

“Good, good. I...feel like it could use a little something though,” Jack says carefully.

Eric turns to him now, an eyebrow raised. “Oh? Like what?”

Jack looks up from the book and shrugs. “I’m not exactly sure. It was still delicious!” Then he goes right back to reading. Eric frowns a little bit but turns back to the bowl in which he’s mixing all of his ingredients.

“I’m surprised to find you down here. You’re usually either running or locked away in your room.”

“Well it’s especially peaceful this morning. I know these people well, they won’t be awake for another hour, at least.”

“Well I guess more pancakes for us then!”

“Is that what you’re doing over there?”

“You bet! I’m gonna add some strawberries and blueberries to keep the spirit of the holiday going.”

He gets no response but doesn’t turn around. Then it hits him; Jack is Canadian, of course he doesn't care much about the Fourth of July...

Soon enough, there’s a steaming pile of patriotic pancakes on a plate on the counter. Before he can even move them, Shitty is suddenly present in the kitchen, loud and slightly hungover.

“Holy shit my dudes, last night was _extremely_ excellent! And now Bitty’s making...no fucking way, fucking America pancakes?” He grabs Eric by the shoulders with mock solemnity. “I take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about you.”

“Shitty, you’ve never said anything remotely bad about me.”

He nods. “And this is why.” He brings both hands down onto Eric’s shoulders firmly before releasing him and grabbing a plate from the pantry. He licks his lips and piles a good number of pancakes onto his plate. Luckily, Eric thought ahead and tripled the recipe. Shitty then opens the fridge and pulls out a can of Reddi-Whip, but Eric gasps and grabs it out of his hands.

“Dude, what?!”

“Shitty Knight, there will be no consumption of this artificial nonsense while I’m standing in this kitchen. Give me a minute, I’ll have some fresh cream whipped up in a second!”

Shitty groans and slumps into the seat next to Jack, who briefly makes eye contact with Eric and smiles as if sharing an inside joke. Eric giggles and pulls out the heavy cream and some sugar and gets to work, violently whisking the mixture until it’s fluffy and light. Jack stands up and sets his mug in the sink, leaning against the counter as Eric finishes whisking.

“See that, Bittle? That’s a nice arm workout right there. Working out is good for you, and it really isn’t as hard as people make it out to be,” he says seriously. Then he playfully adds “Another easy thing to keep you healthy is getting more protein in your diet.”

Eric rolls his eyes and flicks a little glob of whipped cream at Jack, but misses and hits the counter instead.

“Jack, you’re disrupting my _whole_ process. Now I have an extra mess to clean up!”

Jack shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about it, go bring Shitty his whipped cream before he implodes.”

Eric sets the bowl down on the table and Shitty grabs the spoon, applying a more than generous amount of whipped cream to his stack of pancakes.

“Shitty, did you ever got to kindergarten? You have to leave enough for others!”

He blinks up at Eric, who is standing with his hands on his hips and a playful frown on his face.

“Sorry, I got excited! Here, I’ll put a little bit back!”

Eric laughs and stops Shitty. “It’s fine, I was just jokin’. I can always make more. You enjoy now!”

“You’re an angel, Bitty.”

“I know,” he says, batting his lashes and returning to the stove. Jack has a towel and is rubbing down the counter almost violently, his book under the crook of his arm.

“Jack that’s probably fine, it wasn’t even that much!”

“It’s still a little sticky...”

“Go sit, I’ll get you some pancakes.”

Jack starts to protest but Eric cuts him off. “Jack. Sit. And you can’t refuse these pancakes, they have fruit in them, so they’re healthy!”

He smiles triumphantly as Jack drops the towel and returns to his seat. He puts a few pancakes onto a plate, grabs a fork from the drawer, and sets them down in front of Jack.

“I’ll bet your dang _protein_ doesn’t taste as good as these do!”

Shitty is already done with his entire plate. Jack carefully uses his fork to cut off a large piece of pancake. Eric stares him down as he puts it in his mouth and chews.

“Wow. Good work, Bittle,” he says, mouth full.

“Why thank you, Mr. Zimmermann. Now I’m gonna do some cleaning up, you two just relax!”

The rest of that day is fairly lazy and uneventful. Shitty retires to the reading nook, Jack returns to his room, Lardo emerges briefly at around 3 to get some coffee, and Dex, Nursey, and Chowder only come downstairs when Shitty texts them to notify them of the presence of pancakes.

After everybody has had their fill, Eric makes sure the kitchen is cleaned up and plops down next to Shitty.

“For a week called Smashfest, the house is awfully quiet...”

“Yeah, that tends to be how things go. We briefly become like bats, resting during the day and feeding at night.” He bares his teeth and pretends to bite Eric’s neck. Eric giggles and pushes him away as Jack comes down the stairs.

“Why is it that I always find you two here?”

Shitty shrugs. “It’s the natural light brah, you get so much fucking sun sitting here, and Bits and I could both use a tan.”

Eric shoves him again playfully and Jack raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you have fun. I’m getting more coffee to prepare for tonight.”

Shitty just about falls off the reading nook. “Are you joining the party tonight? Jack Zimmermann, actually _choosing_ to come downstairs and lose his shit with the rest of us?”

He shrugs as he enters the kitchen. “I guess so!”

Eric looks down at Shitty, who has dramatically melted to the floor. “Is this a good thing?” Eric asks.

“I don’t even know, Bits! Like, it’s cool that he’s actually willingly participating and shit, but what if it turns out he’s exceptionally lame? I can’t remember the last time Jack partied with us. He could be a complete buzzkill...”

“I doubt that! Plus, who knows what he’ll be like with some alcohol in him.”

Shitty bites the inside of his lip. “He probably won’t drink much, if at all. He had some issues with alcohol when he was younger, and he still tries to stay away. But hey, he surprises me all the time! Like, more than my heart should be able to take, the bastard.”

Eric laughs and offers Shitty a hand, pulling him back up onto the ledge. “Well, now I can’t wait to see!”

He pulls out his phone and sends out a quick tweet, something he hasn’t done much of at all lately:

_Tonight should be interesting y’all, things at the house are about to get wild!_

And so they do. Eric decides to pull out all of the stops and make special dessert shots for everybody. According to the internet, if you mix Fireball and cream soda you get a shot extremely reminiscent of cinnamon buns. His friends tell him the shots are even better than that, and before he lets Shitty take a third one he asks for a small sip. Eric had never really been the type to get completely blackout drunk and because Jack was joining in the festivities that night, he wanted to stay as put together as possible, but he couldn’t help but take a shot of his own after tasting Shitty’s.

Most everybody else is pretty drunk by around 10, but Eric is sitting at the kitchen table with Chowder, still relatively sober. Chowder has been drunkenly babbling for almost an hour now about every other person in the house, telling stories from their days at Samwell and explaining their good qualities (as well as some not-so-good ones.) Eric's back is to the family room but it sounds like most of the party has shifted there, minus Lardo and Jack. Last Eric saw, Lardo was showing Jack some of her new pieces in her room.

In the middle of a story about the time Holster stole Ransom’s underwear, which ended up in a pond, Shitty stumbles into the kitchen.

“Alright you two, you’re comin’ with me...” He grabs them both roughly and drags them into the family room where everybody is sitting in a circle around an empty bottle. Loud music is blaring from the TV and there are more alcohol receptacles laying around the carpet. Eric feels a slight sense of panic rise in his chest upon realizing they’ve been playing spin the bottle. He’s never kissed anyone in his life.

Shitty forces Eric and Chowder down into the circle and sits down next to the blond boy, a slightly maniacal glint in his eyes. Eric leans over and whispers, “Hey, Shitty? I’ve never, um... I’ve never kissed anyone before...”

Shitty gives him a look of disbelief but doesn’t make a big deal. “S’okay Bits, you don’t have to play if you really don’t feel up to it.”

Eric looks around the circle. Jack and Lardo are both absent still. “No—no it’s okay. I’ll play.”

Shitty pulls him into a hug. Apparently he’s a very affectionate drunk. “That’s the spirit you cute little animal. First kisses are overrated anyway.”

Eric does another sweep around the circle and from what he can tell, he’s the only person who’s remotely sober.

Shitty grabs the bottle. “Alright everyone, whose turn was it? Holtzy, right?” Holster nods and grabs the bottle.

Shitty frowns. “Hold on, now that I think of it...you’ve kissed Ransom on all 3 of your turns so far... Did you rig our fun, innocent game of spin the bottle?”

“Hey man, it’s the same bottle that everybody else is using. Luck is just on my side tonight I guess.” He leans in to kiss Ransom but Shitty interrupts, “HEY! Rules are rules, no kissing in the circle unless instructed to do so by the almighty bottle!”

Holster groans and hangs his head. “I’m pretty sure you just made that up, but okay...”

He grabs the bottle and gives it a powerful spin. Eric’s heart nearly stops as it just passes him and lands on Chowder. Everybody cheers as Holster seductively crawls across the circle, wrapping his arms around Chowder’s neck.

“You ready, _captain_?” he asks.

“Captain?” Eric asks Shitty. Shitty nods. “They elected him captain of the team next year, believe it or not. Kid seems really young at heart sometimes, but he’s a seriously dece goalie.”

When Eric turns back to his left, Holster’s tongue is basically down Chowder’s throat. It’s hard to tell if Chowder is enjoying himself or not, but Ransom looks a little grumpy across the circle. Finally they part; Holster’s hair a mess and Chowder’s face a deep shade of red, both a little breathless.

Shitty claps and whoops. “I appreciate the theatrics bro!” Holster winks at him and crawls back to his spot, innocently placing his head on Ransom’s shoulder.

Shitty grabs the bottle again. “Alright, now it’s Ransom’s turn!”

Ransom’s spin somehow just lands on Holster and Shitty groans. “Fuck you guys, no fun at all!”

Ransom shrugs and practically tackles Holster, pinning him to the ground and pressing his mouth to the blond’s.

“Alright, while those two are at it, Chowder it’s your go.”

Chowder nervously reaches for the bottle, giving it a weak spin and landing on himself.

“Really Chow?” Nursey jeers from across the circle. “I didn’t think you were a narcissist bro!”

It sounds like an insult to Eric but Chowder laughs. Shitty grumbles, “Alright, whatever, moving on. Bits, please for the fucking love of God, spin something interesting.”

He nods and laughs nervously, spinning the bottle and taking a deep breath. He feels like it spins forever until it finally lands on...Shitty.

“YOOOO _that’s_ what I call interesting! Pucker up Bittle!”

Shitty turns to him and hesitates for a split second, giving him a look as if to ask _are you sure?_ It’s enough for Eric to get the hint and give him a moment to discreetly nod without letting anybody in the circle know something is up. Shitty smiles then and grabs Eric’s face. They both close their eyes and suddenly Shitty’s lips are on his and wow, this is not what Eric was expecting it to feel like at all. Besides the gentle tickle of Shitty’s mustache against his upper lip, the kiss is sweet and warm and Shitty’s lips taste like alcohol. Their lips separate once and Eric goes back in, to his own surprise. It doesn’t really have anything to do with Shitty, but Eric really wants to appreciate the sensation, especially considering it’s his first time. As they’re about to separate, Eric hears Lardo’s voice joking, “ _Holy fucking shit! Swawesome! Take your tops off!_ ”

He pulls away quickly, looking up to see Lardo and Jack standing just outside the circle, Lardo’s eyes gleaming with what Eric can only decipher as pride. His face flushes when he sees a slightly different look on Jack’s face, amusement mixed with surprise. He feels himself laughing a little bit and Lardo whistles. “You two were really going at it!”

Shitty shrugs. “Bits has nice fuckin' lips man...I’m drunk as fuck, but I’m pretty sure they taste like pie. Am I just making that up?”

Eric giggles and shrugs. “I guess it’s possible, but I don’t even eat that much pie.”

“True, that’s how you stay so fuckin' skinny!” Shitty pokes at his stomach and Eric collapses on top of him. Tickling him is a cheap shot, but Eric suddenly feels a little elated and high, almost as if the alcohol on Shitty’s breath was affecting him. That, or just the fact that he had finally had his first kiss. It doesn’t mean much of course, and Shitty is drunk off his ass, but Eric considers Shitty his best friend. He’s glad that it was him out of everybody in the room.

Jack and Lardo sit down in the circle, still a little in shock at the scene they were greeted by.

After Shitty is finished assaulting Eric’s sides, he starts the bottle around the circle again. Shitty spins and lands on himself. Then, Dex lands on Lardo but refuses to kiss her.

“Poindexter, you’re so fucking lame sometimes...”

Nursey lands on Shitty, but Dex refuses to let Nursey kiss him. “Dex, really? You think I’m gonna steal your boyfriend?”

Finally the bottle gets to Jack. Eric’s heart is thumping out of his chest but he knows if he leaves now, everybody will know something is up. Jack nonchalantly takes his turn, the whole room a little tense as they wait to see who gets to kiss Jack Zimmermann. Eric closes his eyes as the bottle starts to slow, and when he opens them all the attention is on him. He looks down and sees the neck of the bottle pointing in his direction.

Shitty tries to casually grab his arm for some support but Eric can tell the reassurance is a little more obvious than Shitty meant for it to be. Jack notices.

“Bittle, it’s just a game. We don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to...”

He considers it for a second, weighing his options. If he kisses Jack, well, then he’ll be able to say that he knows what _that’s_ like. On the other hand though, he’s trying to get over his crush on Jack and he’s almost 100% certain that this would only make it worse. But the pressure from his friends around him and the alcohol flowing through his body gives him just enough courage to do something out of the ordinary.

“N-no, it’s not a big deal!”

“Right, not a big deal,” Jack repeats.

“Right...”

So Jack kneels, shuffling over to Eric on his knees. His eyes are sparkling slightly and his movements are so sure and committed and Eric feels like he might pass out but he refuses to let that happen before he kisses Jack. Then Jack is right in front of him and everybody goes quiet. Why is it such a big deal? Just a little kiss, right?

 _Wrong_.

Jack leans in, slowly, carefully, and presses his lips to Eric’s. The kiss is so fast and chaste and not anything like the crazy makeouts that had occurred prior, but something about it feels so different than Eric’s kiss with Shitty. The second their lips meet, it’s like a spark ignites and tingles through Eric’s whole being. Any logical reasoning goes out of his mind and if it weren’t for looking up and seeing a room full of people staring at him, Eric might have grabbed Jack and gone back for more. _This_. This is what a first kiss is supposed to feel like. Shitty is wrong, it isn’t overrated, it’s completely magical. Eric never wants it to stop. Unfortunately, it all happens in a matter of 2 seconds.

Jack shuffles back to his place, clearly nonplussed by the event. Lardo clears her throat and grabs the bottle. “So, I guess it would be my turn?”

Shitty blinks and rubs his eyes, then looks at her. “Oh, yeah. We were playing a game. Maybe one more spin and we move on?”

Everybody nods in agreement, still a little shocked, as Lardo gives the bottle a violent spin.

Eric isn’t paying attention. His eyes are wide, his heart is beating slowly and steadily, and he realizes that he’s just made a huge mistake. Any hope of getting rid of his stupid crush was gone, demolished. There was something so sweet yet addicting about Jack’s lips, and now he isn’t sure if he was gonna be able to go on with his life without kissing them again. He hasn’t stopped looking at Jack, no matter how hard he tries he can’t tear his gaze away. Luckily Jack is more interested in the last turn of the game and doesn’t notice, but Eric isn’t sure he would even care. Just to look into those blue eyes for a few seconds would be worth any weird looks or remarks from Jack in the future.

Eric is so distracted, he hardly notices when Lardo pounces on Shitty, planting a giant kiss on his mouth and more kisses all down his neck. Shitty squirms and laughs until Lardo lets up, rolling off of him and plopping down between Shitty and Eric.

Everybody starts to stand up to move the party elsewhere, but Eric is still sitting cross-legged on the floor, dazed.

“Bits. Earth to Bits? _Bitty_ , are you okay?”

“Um...oh...” he breathes, not able to produce much else.

Lardo puts a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should lay off the booze buddy, your face is red as shit.”

Yeah, _that’s_ why.

 _The taste of your lips I'm on a ride_   
_You're toxic, I'm slipping under_   
_With a taste of a poison paradise, I'm addicted to you_   
_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

“Hey y’all, so...” He exhales forcefully, still out of breath from the kiss. As soon as he found the strength to stand up, he rushed to his room and opened up his laptop. Shitty was too drunk to be reliable, so his camera would have to do.

“I kissed him. Jack, I mean. Or he kissed me I guess?... _We kissed_ … It didn’t mean anything of course, we were playing spin the bottle like a bunch of horny drunk high schoolers, but… Good Lord, that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. But,” he pauses, feeling his eyes start to sting with tears, “kissing Jack was like...going to a frat party. While it’s happening, you feel so alive and free and happy, but then in the aftermath...” He’s crying now, a steady flow of tears from his eyes. He curls his knees into his chest and rests his head on them. “The aftermath sucks, is basically all you need to know. And all you can think about is the next time you get to go out and party, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be any more partying for me...”

He laughs, a sad, bitter laugh that surprises even him. “Look at me, reduced to tears and horrible metaphors just because of some boy...Alright, I’ll just have to...to pull myself together. And accept that he’ll probably never feel the same way... I mean, He was so calm and unaffected and I couldn’t even speak afterward. Damn it, I just feel so _stupid_.” He spits that word out, angrily wiping the tears away from his face and sniffling.

“I guess that’s it for now. No recipes today. Again. Just tears and the real, raw emotions of a lonely gay baker.”

He shuts the laptop and pulls out his phone, opening up Twitter and quickly typing:

_I think the worst emotion you can feel is regret._

He makes a mental note to go back and delete it in the morning, once he’s feeling more emotionally stable.

He drops the phone on his desk and crumples onto his bed, his body feeling heavier than ever. The party is still going on underneath him and he can feel the intrusive beat of the music pounding in his skull as he drifts off to sleep, not even bothering to change out of his clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little note; upon looking at the first 7 songs on the playlist and the ones I plan to use for the rest of the chapters, I'm realizing that I'm accidentally creating the gayest playlist of all time. Which is the opposite of a problem, in my book.
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears


	8. keep breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by one of my favorite songs of all time, [Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fORAPkfVV_A)

Eric gets up at his usual time the next morning, blinking sleep out of his eyes and trying to rub the slight hangover out of his head. He hardly slept at all and feels physically and emotionally drained, and the prospect of going in to the bakery makes his throat tighten. Regardless, he manages to roll out of bed and shower lazily, going through the motions while his mind is elsewhere.

He can’t stop thinking about the kiss. He tossed and turned all night, occasionally falling asleep but mostly in a state somewhere between, and now the lack of rest is hitting him. And the kiss, the fucking kiss; he can’t stop thinking about it. Jack’s lips actually touching his.

It was a mistake.

He was vainly hoping that one kiss would help him move on, help him see that Jack is just another person and kissing him wasn’t a big deal.

But it _is_ a big deal, and that’s why he’s so angry. Because now he knows what it feels like, even though it was barely a kiss, just hardly a peck, but he yearns for more. Another kiss, another touch, another shock of electricity through his body. He’s thoroughly _fucked_.

As always, Holly can immediately tell something is wrong. Eric is impatient with the customers, his mood is at an all time low, and he keeps staring off into space, his eyes glazing over and occasionally filling up with tears.

She pulls him aside at around one.

“Eric, honey. Talk to me. You’ve been so down lately, and I’m worried.” She sounds so genuinely concerned and Eric really does want to talk, but he’s too embarrassed. He’s never let another person, let alone a crush, have this kind of effect on him.

“I’m sorry Holly, I know I’ve been a pain today,” he manages. He knows he’s been more than a pain but she shakes her head.

“Whatever’s going on, you gotta work it out. I can’t have you crying into our goods!” He isn’t much in the mood for joking.

“I know. I’ll do better, I swear.”

She shakes her head.

“Go home honey. Get some rest. I know y’all are in the middle of your week of parties but you still need to sleep, and you were here early this morning.”

“Holly, I–”

“This is not a discussion Eric Bittle! You’re going home. Try not to party so hard tonight, and then come back tomorrow once your head is clear, okay?”

He nods, starting to cry again. Her generosity is too much for him to handle at the moment.

She takes her face into her hands. “Eric, whatever this is, you’re gonna be okay honey. I promise, it’ll pass. Just breathe and take it a step at a time.”

He nods again, using the back of his hand to brush the tears away.

“T-thanks Holly. Appreciate it.” He smiles, trying to let her know that really, he’s okay, but she sees right through it.

“Of course Eric. Now go take a nap, drink some tea, eat a slice of pie, take care of yourself. Talk to somebody. I’ve told you this before, but it really is just _not_ good for you to keep this all to yourself. Look what it’s doing to you, darlin’.”

“I know Holly, I feel so dumb.”

“It’s that boy, isn’t it?”

He sighs. Bringing up the subject puts him at risk for crying again, and he isn’t in the mood for that right now, not again.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t feel dumb. Whoever he is, ever consider he may not be worth it if he makes you feel like this?”

“But it isn’t even his fault, he has no idea how I feel.”

“Then tell him!”

He looks at her for a second. “I...can’t. I don’t know how.”

“Sweetheart, you just gotta speak from your heart and tell him what’s really going on. The only way to get over this is to talk to him and see what happens.”

Eric knows that she’s right, but the thought of telling Jack how he feels about him makes terror rise in his chest.

“Ok. Thanks again, Holly.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He takes her advice. Well some of it, anyway. When he gets home he receives a surprised look from Shitty, who’s sitting in his usual spot with a book against his knees. Eric manages a weak smile and Shitty looks like he wants to talk about the night before, but Eric just isn’t ready yet. He stumbles up to his room, burdened by emotions and exhaustion. He strips down to just his underwear and crawls under the covers, curling up on his bed and suddenly feeling more vulnerable than ever.

That’s when the crying really starts. After the kiss happened and all throughout that day, he had been trying to hold everything in, not allowing himself to fully shed tears over Jack. He can’t help it now. He clings to his pillow as his body shakes and tears leave large damp spots all over the pillowcase. Each breath he takes in scratches against his throat, dry and dehydrated, as he finally lets himself go entirely. It’s the worst he can ever remember feeling, worse than the time he had been shoved inside a locker, worse than the time he found a piece of paper in his own locker with the word “fag” written over and over again. This is a different kind of pain, something much deeper and darker, and somehow even lonelier, despite having an actual support system this time around.

He loses track of time, but after what feels like an eternity the tears do stop. At one point, he has a moment of panic and wondered if he’ll ever be able to stop crying, then manages to laugh at himself for being ridiculous. Now, he takes a few deep, shaky breaths and wraps his covers around himself even tighter, suddenly understanding how Jack felt that first week Eric knew him, the Jack that was hardly a person, more of a concept. He thinks that he might be okay if he never leaves his bed again.

After some time of dozing in the afternoon sunlight, Eric picks himself up off the metaphorical floor and gets out of his bed. He doesn't feel rested in the least, mostly empty, and thirsty from all the crying.

He throws on an oversized sweatshirt and some comfy shorts and trudges to his door, opening it to find–

“Lardo?”

She startles.

“Hey, Bits! I uh, I wasn’t like...listening at your door or anything, Shitty just said that he was worried, and I wanted to come check on you but I also didn’t want to bother–”

He pulls her into a hug. He feels like crying again but no tears come; he’s all cried out. “Thanks, Lards.”

“Oh. Bits, uh...So, you okay? Do you wanna talk?”

He lets her go. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. I want Shitty to be there too, even though he knows most of it already.”

She nods. “Totally. C’mon kiddo, nobody else is home, so maybe now is a good time.” She grabs his hand and he allows himself to be led through the hall, back down the stairs, and to the kitchen table. He still feels dazed and sleepy, and he can feel how puffy and red his eyes must look, but he doesn’t care anymore.

After his cry he feels ready to actually talk about Jack and the kiss and his feelings. Shitty already knows for the most part, but as far as Eric knows, Lardo is still completely in the dark. He feels guilty suddenly. Not only has he been bottling everything up, he’s been hiding from the people he considers his best friends.

There’s a cup of coffee in his hands and a blanket around his shoulders. He doesn’t remember how they got there. Lardo and Shitty are sit across from him, both looking worried but not saying anything. After a few moments of slightly uncomfortable silence, Eric says, “So, I kinda like Jack.”

Shitty and Lardo try so hard not to laugh but ultimately fail. Eric frowns at them and angry tears come to his eyes. “This isn’t funny y’all, I’m having a minor crisis over this boy!”

Lardo catches her breath. “Bits, I already know the issue at hand.”

“Shitty told you?”

“He didn’t have to, dude. I can tell.”

Eric’s heart drops. “Wait, so does that mean–”

Shitty shakes his head, understanding Eric’s concern. “Lards is exceptionally good at reading people, and robot Jack is completely oblivious. You’re fine bro. He doesn’t know.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay. What now?”

“Well,” Lardo says, “that’s mostly up to you Bits. Have you two talked since, you know...?”

He shakes his head. “But it didn’t mean anything to him, I already know. Did you see him after it happened? No reaction at all.”

Shitty shakes his head and chuckles. “Bitty, like I said. _Robot_. You have no idea how he’s really feeling.”

“Well, has he talked to either of you?”

They look at each other and both shake their heads.

“He went out for a run earlier and shut himself in his room when he got home.”

“Bitty, bro, you really need to talk to him.”

He shakes his head. “I can barely do _this_. I’m not sure if I’m gonna be able to look him in the eye without breaking into tears again.”

“Bits,” Lardo says as she rests her hand on his forearm, “what’s wrong with that? You’re allowed to cry.”

“ _I know_. But I don’t want _him_ to see that. I don’t wanna be, like, that annoying kid who has a crush on him who he now has to put up with and let down easy. I don’t want that. I just want this all to go away.”

“Well you live right next door to him, it’s not gonna just disappear Bits.” Lardo looks sympathetic and maybe a touch frustrated. Eric can understand, he _is_ being sort of difficult and dramatic.

“I don’t want _him_ to disappear, I just don’t wanna feel the way I do. It’s...too much right now. You know, I’m still settling in, new house, new job, basically a whole new life, and I don’t need all of this extra junk going on in my head!”

“I know Bitty. It’s not easy, or fair. Just try to focus on other things the best you can okay? I just...I think you need to talk about the kiss if it’s affecting you this much.”

He groans and rests his forehead on the counter. “How do I even bring that up? ‘Hey Jack, remember that kiss at that party? Well I really liked it and I can’t stop thinking about it and I was wondering if we could do it again, over and over?’ I can’t see that going well.”

Shitty is giggling a little and despite the situation, Eric is already feeling slightly better. Holly had certainly been right about feeling better after talking things out.

Lardo sighs. “I don’t know, but just being honest with him might help things. If he knows how you feel, then you would have a better idea about how to continue, you know?”

“He doesn’t feel the same way. People like him don’t feel that way about people like me.”

Shitty exhales through his nose angrily. “Bitty, brah, stop being so fucking self-deprecating, I’ve told you this like a million times already. You’re a goddamn catch, hell you’re probably out of Jack’s league, honestly.”

“But he’s...perfect. He’s so mysterious, and tall, and attractive, and he plays hockey–”

“ _Used_ to,” Shitty supplies.

“Not the point! The tiny baker and the big hot athlete don’t get together, except in fairy tales and awful made for TV movies.” He’s smiling a bit now. It’s at least comforting to know that he has such great friends to talk through things with. He makes a note in his head to stop being so closed off. He realizes that he already feels much lighter than before.

Lardo smiles. “You never know Bits...” She sighs. “Alright dude, go try to get some more sleep. If you’re gonna lose your fucking mind tonight, you gotta have some energy, right? We have no idea where everybody went off to, so you won’t be missing anything.”

 

When he wakes up, the sun is already starting to go down. He’s a little too warm and he feels groggy, but from what he can tell he slept a few hours. A piece of paper is lying on the floor a few feet from the door. It’s a note from Lardo that says: ‘ _Bits, Rans and Holtz should be back home by 8, and everybody else is coming a little later. Come down when/if you feel like it <3._’ He folds it in half and places it on his desk, yawning and running a hair through his hair, which is a complete disaster. The idea of getting completely shitfaced with his friends does cheer him up a little, but he still feels so heavy and sad. Then he remembers that he can’t even get that drunk, because he has to go back to work tomorrow and make it up to Holly.

He changes into something less casual and looks at his phone. He’s been avoiding it and now sees that he has a multitude of Twitter notifications. He never deleted the tweet from the night before and from the few responses he reads, it just seems like his followers are concerned for him. After all, they know best what’s really going on in Eric’s head. It’s only 7:30, so he has some time before things start to get crazy.

When he gets downstairs, Shitty and Lardo are sitting in the reading nook with the windows wide open, talking quietly. Lardo sees Eric come down the stairs and she smiles, gesturing him over and pulling him into a hug.

“Feeling any better?”

He shrugs. “I guess. I’m still awful tired but I think I’m okay now. I know I was a little overdramatic earlier, but I think now that I’ve had my moment I can move on?”

“You know who you’re talking to?” Shitty asks. “The two most dramatic fuckers on the damn planet. Besides, isn’t this like, your first crush?”

Eric nods.

“I give you full permission to be as dramatic as you want, then. Dealing with all of those new emotions sometimes makes you feel a little crazy.”

“Yeah, I guess. I can’t remember the last time I cried as hard as I did earlier.”

Lardo pouts a little. “Aw, I’m sorry dude.”

“No, it’s okay! I wasn’t saying that to get sympathy from y’all or anything, I just...I don’t know. It felt nice to let everything out though. And now I can actually enjoy myself tonight!”

Shitty claps him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! You wanna come help me? I’m gonna start getting some food out and shit.”

“Sure! I haven’t baked all day and I’m sorta in the mood.”

He bakes cupcakes. A lot of them. Shitty and Lardo remind him of the time he baked too many cookies and everybody in the house practically gained 5 pounds, and he’s happy and laughing and piping frosting onto the cooling cupcakes and suddenly life is okay again. Holly was right. Every so often he stops and takes a few deep breaths and mentally thanks her. He’s getting through this, and he hasn’t even thought about Jack for an hour.

Ransom and Holster arrive bickering vaguely about something.

“Holtz, I already explained to you why that angle won’t work. Nobody wants to see that, it’s weird.”

“Ok, but just imagine if we somehow made it work, it would be swawesome!”

The argument dies into the distance as the couple heads up the stairs to get changed and Eric exchanges confused looks with Shitty then Lardo, who says “It’s probably best not to ask.”

Eric chuckles in agreement, then finishes up frosting the cupcakes. There are 64 of them, all mint and tinted green with a mint Oreo frosting, one of Eric’s favorite recipes from when he was younger. He could recall the first time he ever made them and how difficult it was to squeeze the frosting through the piping bag because he left the Oreo chunks too big. Luckily, the kitchen in this house has a fairly decent food processor that he uses to get the pieces as small as possible.

Nursey, Dex, and Chowder show up just a little bit later with a couple of 6 packs and a plastic bag filled with streamers.

“What?” Chowder asks when Shitty raises an eyebrow. “I thought this place could use some decorating!”

And, sweet Jesus, do they decorate. They put on some music and sing and dance along as they throw streamers around the house, hardly even drunk yet. They get really into it, and Shitty realizes that they’ve never decorated for Smashfest before, so he informs everybody that they’re going all out with the streamers. Eventually, Eric finds himself alone in the kitchen, singing along to some Taylor Swift song when he hears someone clear their throat behind him. He glances over his shoulder and his breath catches and his singing stops with a slightly strangled sound as he spots Jack, leaning in the doorway and looking around at all of the streamers.

“Hey, Bittle. You make all of those?” He gestures to the cupcakes.

Eric closes his eyes for a split second, taking a deep breath, already feeling the familiar sensation of tightness in his chest.

“I sure did! If you like mint chocolate chip ice cream, you’ll love these.” It’s a dumb thing to say, he feels dumb as the words leave his lips, but he’s afraid if he tries to say anything else he won’t be able to keep his cool. Jack nods and comes over to the counter, his hand brushing Eric’s arm as he passes him. Eric jumps slightly at the touch but Jack doesn’t seem to notice. He’s already picking up a cupcake.

“It’s been a little hard to have you around, Bittle.”

Eric’s eyes widen and his heart just about drops out of his ass.

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” he stammers defensively.

Jack raises an eyebrow slightly as he takes a bite of the cupcake and fuck, Eric should _not_ find that hot.

“Well you’re always making all of this unhealthy food, but it’s so good even I can’t resist eating it,” Jack explains.

He exhales quickly and passes it off as a laugh, then takes another deep breath, trying to tame his rapidly beating heart.

“Oh. Well, I apologize for ruining your diet, but I refuse to apologize for the baking itself!”

He really hopes that Jack attributes the redness of his face to the heat in the kitchen and the straining he’s been doing to stand on his toes and hang streamers, because he can feel that almost all of the blood in his body has rushed to his face and neck.

Jack takes another bite and smiles. “I know, I was just messing with you, Bittle. Good cupcakes.”

“Thanks,” Eric breathes in reply, turning away to hang another streamer. He’s trying to attach it to the top of the fridge so he can cross it to the other side of the kitchen, but he can’t quite reach. He stretches as far as he can and a little involuntary sound escapes his mouth as he drops back onto his heels.

And suddenly Jack is behind him, his half eaten cupcake resting on the counter and his hand on Eric’s. He’s grabbing the streamer and he asks, “Need some help?”

Eric doesn’t know what it feels like to die, but in this moment he’s pretty close. He manages a curt nod and releases the roll as Jack gently takes it and easily reaches up and around Eric to tape the streamer where Eric wants it. He then hands the roll back to Eric and smiles.

Eric smiles back, weakly, then stutters “I, um, well thanks, Jack, I gotta go and help Lardo with something probably? But yeah, thanks.”

Jack frowns and raises an eyebrow, and Eric is so flustered because Jack has no idea what he just did to the blond. His senses are overloaded and he’s breathing rapidly as he exits the kitchen, making a beeline for Lardo, who is cackling and wrapping Shitty’s legs in red streamers. He grabs her arm and yanks her away, muttering, “Help. Bedroom. Now.”

“Bits, what the fuck, is everything okay?”

He sits down on her bed, taking more deep breaths and trying to focus on the painting on the wall and not the tightness in his chest or the buzz in his ears.

“ _Bits_?”

He snaps back to reality. “Yeah, sorry. I just don’t know if I can do it. He came into the kitchen and started complimenting my cupcakes, and then he helped me with a streamer and there was a lot of touching and it was just...too much.”

She laughs a little and sits down next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You’re okay though, yeah?”

He nods.

“Good.”

They sit for a second until Eric’s breathing and heart rate return to normal.

“Lardo, I can’t even look at him without feeling like I’m gonna throw up. This ain’t normal, there must be something wrong with me.”

“Boy fever?” she teases.

He laughs and feigns seriousness as he replies, “My condition is no laughing matter!”

She releases him and stands up. “Come on, you still have streamers to hang up in the kitchen,” which Eric translates as _you have a conversation to continue_. “He’s just a person Bits. Prove to yourself that you can make it through a simple little chat with him. If you can do that, you’ll be fine! Just one talk at a time.”

He nods and stands up, giving her a quick thank you hug and heading back to the kitchen.

Jack is just finishing his cupcake as Eric returns.

“Sorry about that, she just wanted advice on, um, shoes.”

Jack nods and leans against the counter as Eric goes back to hanging up the streamers. “So,” Jack starts cautiously, “last night was...”

“Interesting?” Eric suggests.

Jack laughs quietly. “Yeah, that works I guess.”

“That was the first time I ever played spin the bottle, believe it or not.”

“Yeah, me too. Finally getting to live like teenagers, eh?”

Eric smiles. Maybe this isn’t so hard after all. Jack is just a person. Just a person. “Definitely. And who knows what kind of shenanigans tonight will bring.”

Jack hums in agreement and hesitates before saying, “So about that kiss, I–”

The tightness rapidly returns to Eric’s chest and he almost drops the streamer he’s working on. He rapidly turns and says, “Oh, don’t even worry about it, it was nothing, just a silly game right?” But he can hear it in his own voice that he isn’t very convincing. He winces and turns back around around as he hears a knock at the door.

From the foyer he hears Lardo’s voice.

“Uh, what the fuck are you doing here!?” then, “Hey, you can’t just barge into someone’s house you fucking ass!”

Eric and Jack exchange a glance, momentarily forgetting the conversation at hand, and Eric’s heart does another flip as Kent Parson walks into the kitchen.

Kent looks a little disheveled and out of breath. All he says is, “Jack,” and starts to come toward him, and Jack freezes. Eric can see that Jack starts to shake slightly and his eyes are wide with fear. Kent takes another step toward Jack, who unfreezes and rushes past Eric and out of the kitchen as Lardo and Shitty come in and grab Parse. Lardo looks at him with eyes wide and mouths _go_ as the three of them start to argue and Parse struggles to get away.

 

He gently knocks on Jack’s door but enters anyway when he doesn’t get a reply. Jack whips his head toward the sound then looks back down at the floor as Eric closes the door. Eric cautiously approaches as he realizes what’s happening.

Jack is sitting on the edge of his bed, shaking violently and breathing rapidly, tears flowing steadily as he braces himself. His fists are clenched and his jaw is locked and his eyes are huge and scared and out of focus, and it shatters Eric’s heart in half because Jack is having a panic attack and he doesn’t know what to do.

He slowly sits down on the bed next to Jack, who makes no objection, and carefully places his delicate hand over one of Jack’s clenched fists. He’s drenched in cold sweat and his breaths are so short and ragged but Eric suddenly feels a strange sense of calm.

Jack opens his hand and Eric places his in it, giving Jack the lightest squeeze and carefully placing his other hand on his shoulder.

“Jack,” he says, so gently, barely a whisper. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

It takes a few minutes, but Jack eventually manages to take a few deep breaths. The shaking stops for the most part and Jack releases some of the tension in his body. He’s still crying and he can’t meet Eric’s eyes.

Again, Eric says Jack’s name as gently as he possibly can. He patiently waits as Jack fully calms down, his eyes focusing again and the tears stopping almost completely.

“You okay?”

Jack shakes his head. He tries to say something but his voice is heavy and it doesn’t come out right, so Eric just shushes him gently.

“It’s okay, just take another minute, it’s okay. Just keep breathing, Jack.”

Jack takes another shaky breath and nods, giving Eric’s hand a tight squeeze and sliding slightly closer.

Finally, Jack says, “I didn’t think I was gonna have to see him again. At least, not so soon.”

“None of us did. It wasn’t okay for him to show up unannounced, Jack. I’m so sorry...”

He nods his head in agreement and thanks. They sit in silence for a few more minutes, their breathing now synchronized and peaceful.

“Thank you, Bittle.”

“There’s no need for that Mr. Zimmermann, don’t be silly.”

“It’s just...Parse always stayed away from me when I got like this. I scared him, I think. I scare myself too, sometimes, but he’s the only person who’s seen me have a panic attack, besides my parents. And you...you handled it so well.”

“Did I?”

Jack nods and smiles weakly. “Yeah, you were perfect. Kept me grounded.”

Eric laughs slightly through his nose and returns the smile. The silence returns, but it’s not awkward or strange, it’s a comfortable silence. Eric doesn’t even register how rare it is to just be able to sit with someone in silence and feel comfortable.

His hand is still in Jack’s and it’s so intimate for just two hands touching, but the tightness in Eric’s chest doesn’t come. _I can do this_ , he thinks, _I can be his friend_. And Eric really does want to be his friend, just to have this kind of closeness with him, regardless of the label on the relationship. His mind is suddenly at ease.

Jack’s eyes are wet and shiny and he’s so vulnerable and tangible and _real_ in this moment, almost like the blue of his eyes is the only thing anchoring Eric to reality.

 _I want to change the world, instead I sleep_ _  
_ _I want to believe in more than you and me_   
But all that I know is I'm breathing

_All I can do is keep breathing_

_All we can do is keep breathing now_

After about 15 minutes, there’s a soft knock that causes both boys to jump slightly, then laugh. Eric removes his hand from Jack’s and opens it. Lardo’s concerned eyes look into his and notice how calm and almost happy he is and her expression melts until she’s smiling, just slightly. Eric returns to his place next to Jack and Lardo sits on his other side.

“Hey there.”

“Hey yourself,” he replies.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it is now,” Jack says, eyes briefly flitting to Eric, who doesn’t notice.

“Good. Parse is still down there, unfortunately. Those damn frogs are all over him, because he’s a fucking NHL player or whatever. Bunch of bullshit if you ask me, they should know better. Anyway, his stubborn ass won’t be leaving until Saturday, at the earliest.”

Some of the fear return to Jack’s eyes and Eric instinctively places his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

Lardo nods grimly. “He says he just got into town, and he has a hotel room somewhere near here. Claims he’s here because last year Shitty drunkenly invited to join us during Smashfest this year, but I think we know what his real intentions are.”

Jack exhales and rubs his temples. “There’s no way you can get rid of him?”

Lardo shrugs. “It’s like the beginning of the summer, he’s refusing to go until he talks to you. I really hate to say it Jack, but he’s gonna be here every night for the rest of the week trying to get to you. I know partying isn’t really your thing anyway, but you may wanna chill up here for the most part. We can stop in every so often so you don’t get lonely, but I don’t want him to say shit to you. He’s done as far as I’m concerned.”

Eric speaks now. “Agreed. You don’t owe him anything. Damn, that boy is persistent...”

Jack sighs. “Yeah, he is. I appreciate it, you two.”

Lardo gently punches his shoulder. “Don’t be stupid, of course we’re here for you.”

He smiles and hugs her, then gives Eric a meaningful look. Eric and Lardo stand up and leave Jack in his room.

Once they’re on the other side of the door, Eric starts to head downstairs but Lardo grabs his arm.

“Bitty. You okay?”

He thinks for a second, then answers honestly, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“What went down in there?”

Eric shrugs. “Some kind of closure, I suppose. I think being Jack’s friend is something I can manage, and something he needs.” He pauses and presses his lips together, then adds, “He had a panic attack.”

Lardo gasps. “No fucking way, I don’t think he’s had one in years... Not a legit, full-on panic attack anyway. What did you say to him?”

“Not much really. Just told him to keep breathing and held his hand.”

He half expects, again, to feel that familiar tight sensation in his chest, but it stays away. Lardo looks mildly concerned.

“Are you...over it? Him?” She definitely sounds confused, and she has every right to, because nobody gets over anything that quickly.

He thinks for a second. “No. Definitely not. But this isn’t just about me anymore, so I need to try to get over it for his sake, I think.”

She nods, still frowning slightly. “I think you’re the strangest person I’ve ever met, Bits.”

He laughs, a real, genuine, happy laugh, and her frown dissipates. “I hope you mean that in a good way!”

“The best way possible, kiddo.”

They link their arms and head back downstairs into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty fun to write, because I love the Lardo/Bitty friendship more than life itself and Lardo has been a little neglected in this fic thus far.  
> Enjoy :) <3
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson


	9. i wanna dance with somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eH3giaIzONA)

Thursday morning, Eric wakes up feeling rested and relieved. He replays the previous night’s events in his head as he showers and gets dressed for work.

After his moment with Jack, he and Lardo had gone back downstairs to find Shitty and Kent going at each other’s throats while Ransom and Holster fought to keep them from doing physical damage to each other. After the fight, Parse stormed out of the house, claiming he’d be back the following night, like some kind of fucking villain from a cheesy black and white movie.

Nobody was much in the mood for partying after that, but Chowder and Holster did get some energy flowing again by having a cupcake eating contest that ended when Holster ran to the bathroom and Chowder almost choked after putting an entire cupcake in his mouth.

Eric smiles to himself as he brushes his teeth, looking forward to going into the bakery and showing Holly that things are okay again. How it all happened in the span of one night, Eric isn’t sure, but why question it?

His walk to the bakery is nice. He doesn’t run into Jack, he hums some random tune and listens to the sounds of the summer morning and he feels happy. It isn’t a pervasive, overwhelming happiness. More... contentment. Everything is okay, at the very least.

Holly gives him a big hug when he comes into the bakery, already beaming and ready for things to go back to normal, as normal as they get around here anyway.

“So, you sort things out with this boy?”

He shrugs. “In a way, I guess. Ain’t nothin’ you gotta worry about anymore, that’s what matters! I’m feeling much better today.”

“I know,” she says, smiling. “I can tell.”

He spends the first part of his day making the same cupcakes he had made the night before, except this time Holly suggests that they serve them as for-here treats with a side of mint chocolate chip ice cream as well. At around one, Eric is scooping ice cream, carefully and artistically plating his creations.

“I appreciate the thoroughness, honey, but these people don’t care much what it looks like. The taste is enough.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course they care what it looks like! It’s basically art, Holly.”

She laughs, “I don’t disagree, sweetheart! Just don’t take _too_ much time, we already have quite a few customers.”

To Eric, the success of the bakery feels almost natural. Even when Holly ran it on her own, the bakery was popular, but ever since the cute Southern blond boy started working there, their business has increased exponentially. Holly blames the pies for the most part, but also Eric’s way with the customers.

He spends his afternoon crushing Oreos, dyeing cupcake batter green, scooping ice cream and bringing dishes out to customers. The bakery runs out of sitting room on the inside, so he makes frequent trips to folks outside, sitting on the benches or standing around. It all feels so right, and Eric doesn’t take a single moment for granted. How can his life be going so well already? The bakery is a secure place to be working because of its success, he has amazing friends who have already helped him through a pretty serious emotional bump in the road, and every day he gets to do what he loves. It’s probably best in the long run not to question it. Just appreciate.

Shitty and Lardo inevitably hear about the mint chocolate extravaganza happening at Holly’s through Eric’s Twitter, and they manage to drag Ransom and Holster along too. Holster refuses to eat any after the night before, and just thinking about the prospect of eating sweets makes his face as green as the cupcakes. Between pulling the cupcakes out of the oven, making more frosting, and taking general orders from customers, Eric checks in with his friends, who have someone managed to claim their usual spots in the stools along the counter. He can tell that Lardo and Shitty are still concerned about his sudden change in mood, but he assures them that, really, he’s fine. Eric admits to himself that he has a tendency to play things off as not nearly as bad as they are, but in this particular situation he really is feeling okay.

The topic of Jack comes up eventually, of course. Eric is slightly surprised to see that Shitty and Lardo look to him to explain the situation to Ransom and Holster, who react with anger and plots for revenge against the dastardly Kent Parson. The mood is a little tense when Eric mentions that Parse will probably be back that night. Eric’s friends leave to get back to the house and prepare.

Around six, the crowds start to die down and Holly and Eric have a lot of work to do when it comes to cleaning up. Holly had been in and out all day, going to the nearby store to get more ice cream until they were sold out of mint chocolate chip. They had to resort to using chocolate to Eric’s chagrin, because “The whole point of the dish is the artistic unity between the cupcake and the ice cream,” but Holly assures him that nobody seems to mind. After they’re done trashing all of the empty ice cream cartons and picking up plates and silverware from the tables around the bakery, Holly thanks Eric for his hard work and sends him on his way. The sun is just beginning to set as he walks home, still smelling like mint and a little sticky from the ice cream, but even happier than on his walk there.

He plans to take a quick shower before the party, if just to smell like a normal human and not a goddamn pack of gum. He runs into Jack on his way into the bathroom. He’s just finished showering, and all he’s wearing is a towel around his waist. Eric almost cries. His chest is muscular and defined and still dripping and yeah, he knows he told himself they could be friends but with muscles like that, a boy’s mind will definitely wander.

“Oh goodness, Jack! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were, uh, y’know...”

“Naked?”

“Well...yeah, that.”

Jack laughs as he brushes past Eric and opens the door to his room. “Hope I left enough hot water for you, Bittle.”

 

Eric finds himself cleaning up every empty bottle he finds lying around in the house that night. He’s trying as hard as possible to avoid another spin the bottle incident, plus cleaning as you go always makes the work easier. He knows damn well that nobody else is going to volunteer to clean up, so he takes it into his own hands.

Things are relatively normal until Lardo breaks out her karaoke machine. Although Eric has to admit that she and Holster do a mean rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart, the semi-drunk screech-singing of Nursey and Shitty is enough to drive him into the kitchen. He opens the fridge to grab himself a beer, and when he closes it and turns around he comes face to face with Kent Parson.

“Oh! Hello, Kent. Who let you in?”

“You guys keep your spare key under that loose board on the porch.”

Even Eric didn’t know that. “Right...Can I help you with something?”

Kent grabs the beer out of Eric’s hands and takes a long sip, then thrusts the bottle back into his grip.

“Yeah. Yeah, actually, you can. You can stay the _fuck_ away from Jack.”

“What do you mean?” Eric really doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s only told Shitty and Lardo about his crush, so how would Kent know?

“You know exactly what I fucking mean. I guess you think you’re some hero who came to his rescue last night after mean old Parse spooked him, right?”

Eric stares at him, a little shocked. “You’re awful. Just, really awful. Do you have any idea what you did to him?”

Kent snorts and takes another sip of Eric’s beer. “He probably had another,” he makes air quotes, “panic attack. Because apparently my mere presence can send him into a panic.”

“I can relate,” Eric mutters. Kent doesn’t hear, or he doesn’t care.

“Look, I get it. You’re more or less cute, you can bake, you're maybe the twinkiest person I’ve ever met, and you have the whole ‘Southern belle’ thing going for you. But the only way the hockey player and the twink get together is in porn. And maybe some awful made for TV movie.”

Eric almost laughs. Hadn’t he said the same thing to Shitty and Lardo the previous day? “We’re not so different, you and me,” Eric responds coyly. “I mean, look at us. Sure, you’re a little taller, and sorta famous, but you’re still a small blond with a big mouth.”

Kent rolls his eyes. “You’re reaching, _honey_.” He takes the beer again, draining the bottle before handing it back to Eric.

“Just...stay away. He’s gonna come crawling back to me eventually, he always does, and I don’t want you standing in the way of that,” Kent says, looking over his shoulder. Looking for Jack.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, things between us aren’t like that, and I don’t see them changing anytime soon.” He isn’t able to mask the slight disappointment in his voice. Kent raises an eyebrow and reaches around Eric to grab another beer.

“Adorable. A little unrequited crush. Jack’s gonna laugh his ass off when I tell him.”

Eric feels his heart briefly cease its beating. “W–well that’s not gonna happen, because he doesn’t wanna talk to you, so we’re not gonna let you anywhere near him.”

“Good luck with that,” Kent replies, twisting off the cap and locking eyes with Eric as he downs the entire bottle. “I can be very persistent.”

Eric is about to say something else, but Chowder enters the kitchen.

“Whoa, Kent you’re back already!”

Kent patronizingly rolls his eyes at Eric, who crosses his arms and holds his ground. Does Kent really think Eric is going to join him in making fun of Chowder? Kent scoffs at Eric and turns to Chowder, a fake smile creeping onto his face.

“Chow, my bro, long time no see!” He wraps his arm around Chowder’s shoulder as Chowder starts to chatter and leads him out of the kitchen, but he steals a quick glance back at Eric and glares at him.

Eric sighs and opens the fridge yet again to get himself a beer, disposing of the two bottles Kent left on the counter. He sits at the table alone for a few minutes, replaying the conversation in his head. Did Jack have a type? That’s what Kent seemed to be implying, but then again he was also right about the jock and the twink not being realistic together.

He frowns. He had never been referred to as a twink before, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Before he can drift any deeper into his thoughts, _Hot in Herre_ by Nelly starts to blast from the other room and he hears everybody start to cheer. He finishes his beer and cautiously leaves the kitchen to see what’s happening.

Kent is on top of a coffee table, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair tousled, swiveling his hips perfectly in time with the music. As much as he loathes the guy, Eric has to admit that Parse knows how to move his body. Shitty and Lardo are actively ignoring him, sitting on the nearby couch and having what looks like a serious conversation. Chowder is watching, enrapt, and Dex and Nursey are both mildly amused but still attentive. Eric sees Holster whisper something in Ransom’s ear, which causes Ransom to grin mischievously and look up at Parse. Holster looks over at Eric and winks at him, and Eric winks back. He had heard some of their plots when they came to the bakery, but it looked to him like they were planning something different altogether.

Eric’s eyes widen in horror as Kent undoes his belt and the button of his jeans, slowly sliding the zipper downwards and looking Eric right in the eye. It’s like the guy is marking his territory or something, and it’s a little obscene. Eric doesn’t break the eye contact, because if this is gonna be some kind of unspoken competition, he doesn’t want to lose. He keeps his eyes on Kent’s face as the pants slide down to his ankles and Shitty yells, “Aw come on, are you fucking serious?!”

Kent just rolls his eyes and continues, rolling his hips and running his hands up and down his body. He pulls his underwear down just slightly, enough for Eric to see hip bones and a patch of hair multiple shades darker than Kent’s hair, and then instead of thinking about Kent’s dick or how attractive it is to see his body moving so sensually, Eric is wondering if Kent is even a natural blond.

Suddenly Lardo is next to him, pulling him toward the kitchen.

“Sorry Bits, I had to get out of there. Fucking gross. So, did he talk to you?”

Eric nods. “Yeah, he did.”

“And?”

“He uh...he called me a twink. And stole my beer.”

Lardo snorts. “No fucking way. As if he isn’t? He may think he’s some buff hockey player or whatever, but that dude is a twink through and through.”

“He also told me to stay away from Jack, as if that’s gonna be a problem or something.” He looks down at the table.

She squeezes his arm sympathetically. “I’m sorry Bits. But hey, on Saturday there’s gonna be tons of cute guys here though, and a lot of them used to go to Samwell. That means there are bound to be some horny gays looking for action.” Eric can tell she’s mostly joking, trying to cheer him up.

He laughs. “Shitty said the same thing the other day, but that’s not really my style.”

Lardo raises an eyebrow as she grabs a beer. “If you say so. You could be missing out, though.”

“I think I’ll survive,” he jokes.

They sit in silence for a few moments, or as silent as it can get with a pro hockey player stripping in the next room.

Eric finally breaks the silence. “I think Rans and Holtz are plotting again.”

“Oh, for sure! I’m excited to see what they have up their sleeves, personally.”

Eric nods in agreement as the song ends and there are some half-hearted cheers. He hears Shitty yell, “You had your damn moment, now put your fucking clothes back on!”

Lardo laughs into her beer. “Shitty does _not_ like Kent Parson.”

“I hadn’t noticed!”

They stand up and join the others. Kent is buttoning his shirt back up and Chowder hands him his hat, which at some point was thrown across the room. He starts to head toward the stairs, but Chowder stops him and starts to talk his ear off again, asking him questions about what it’s like to play pro and asking for general tips. Eric is thankful, because the last thing he wants is for Kent to find his way upstairs to Jack’s room. Lardo sits next to Shitty on the couch, handing him another beer. Eric guesses she’s probably passing on the information he gave her because Shitty is frowning in Parse’s direction. Nursey and Dex are drunkenly slow dancing to an upbeat song and giggling as they sway, while Ransom and Holster are huddled in a corner, no doubt perfecting whatever diabolical scheme awaits Parse.

That leaves Eric, a little awkward and alone, unsure of what to do. The music has been turned down and the mood is a little more somber, and all he can think about is how lonely Jack must feel too. He looks over at Parse, still stealing occasional looks at the staircase and trying to escape from Chowder, and he makes up his mind. The competition is on, and Eric Bittle doesn’t like to lose. He rushes into the kitchen and grabs a six-pack of beers. He makes his way toward the stairs with purpose and gives Kent the biggest, most innocent smile he can muster. Kent bites his bottom lip angrily as Eric squeezes past him in the hallway and climbs the stairs. He’ll show Kent how to be a fucking hero.

_When the night falls, my lonely heart calls_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a quick thanks for all of the support so far, and also point out that this fic just hit 100 subscribers. It's amazing to think that there are 100 of you out there who care enough about this story to subscribe to it, and I thank you all so much.  
> This chapter and the next too probably are a little on the shorter side, and I'm also trying to fight my way through some nasty writer's block so you'll have to excuse the lack of a lot of dialogue in this chapter!
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston


	10. i thought i cut him at the root

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Weeds by Marina and the Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlE2WQCGGZo)

“Jack?” Eric asks quietly as he knocks on the door.

He hears a low and sleepy, “Come in,” and pushes the door open.

Jack is sitting on his bed, shirtless, a book in his lap. The room is dark, save for the small reading lamp on Jack’s desk. Eric feels his pulse increase at the sight of Jack’s bare chest but manages to compose himself so that his face doesn’t go completely red.

“I was afraid you were getting lonely up here! I know partying isn’t really your thing but...”

Jack looks up from the book and nods. “I’m fine, but I do appreciate the thought.”

Eric takes another step toward the bed, keeping his eyes on the floor and not on Jack’s half naked body.

“I brought up some beer, in case you want some.”

Jack shrugs, and Eric stops. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. He’s invading Jack’s personal space and alone time. Then again, Jack has already had an awful lot of alone time... What the hell? He commits and sits down on the edge of the bed, the same place he had sat the night prior when he held Jack’s hand. The memory sends another powerful surge of blood past his ears. The music from the party below is pulsing lightly through the second floor but apart from that, Jack’s room is silent except for the occasional sound of a page turning.

Eric grabs one of the beers and twists the cap off, accidentally cutting his pointer finger on one of the ridges in the process.

“Ouch! Dammit...” He brings the finger to his mouth and sucks at the cut, annoyed by the metallic taste of blood.

“Alright there?”

“Hmm? Oh sure, fine. Just apparently can’t open a beer without injuring myself, is all.”

He hears Jack chuckle quietly and turn another page.

“I’ll have you know, I’m in real pain here, Mr. Zimmermann! Although this isn’t nearly as painful as watching Kent Parson strip on our good furniture.”

Jack closes the book. “He didn’t.”

Eric nods and laughs a little. “A scandalous number of clothing items were removed. I felt the need to remove myself from the situation before anything else came off.”

Jack hums to acknowledge that he heard Eric, but says nothing. He puts the book on the desk and crosses to his closet, then throws on a plain gray hoodie and turns the light on. He sits down next to Eric and to Eric’s surprise, grabs a beer for himself.

Jack twists off the cap and puts the bottle to his lips, downing half of the bottle in one breath.

“Whoah, you may wanna slow down there.”

Jack shakes his head and licks his lips. “I’m okay.”

Eric raises an eyebrow. “Alright then...”

Jack finishes the rest of the beer and sets the bottle on the floor, grabbing another one.

“I just...” He exhales angrily. “I feel like he’s never going away. Kent. I thought I wouldn’t ever have to see him again, I thought we were done for good. So when he showed up yesterday, it really just...”

Eric puts a hand on his arm. “I get it, Jack. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Jack nods and takes another sip of beer. Eric is only halfway through his first. They sit for a couple minutes, relishing in the semi-silence and the taste of beer on their tongues and the cool comfort of the summer evening. Jack’s window is open and a breeze occasionally blows through the room or a dog barks in the distance, and Eric suddenly feels a little homesick, which is odd considering he’s been living in Massachusetts for four years already.

“Things were always kinda like this with us,” Jack eventually says.

Eric smiles sympathetically. It’s obvious the older boy needs to talk, and this isn’t the first time this has happened, but Eric finds himself a little bit nervous this time. When it happened before, there wasn’t any alcohol in Jack’s system.

“He was always come and go. I mean, I couldn’t blame him. He went first in the draft and started playing for the Aces, meanwhile I was sitting in a hospital bed recovering from...Well, I guess you probably already know about that?”

“I–yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Shitty told me and–”

“Hey,” Jack interrupts, “it’s okay. That part of my life is over now. It’s in the past. But Kent still reminds me of that scared kid, under too much pressure and unable to deal, because he was the one I thought I could turn to during that time. I held on to him for so long because he was all I had left of my past, I guess? You saw how well that went for me...”

Eric nods grimly. “You did what was right for you.”

Jack nods in agreement. “I still question that, sometimes...”

There’s another pause in the conversation. As always with Jack, the silence is comfortable and almost warm, not at all awkward. Jack finishes his second beer and goes for a third, and Eric almost feels like he should say something but, no. Jack is an adult, and he’s fully capable of making decisions for himself.

“So how did y’all meet?”

Jack’s eyes go a little soft. Eric guesses that people don’t ask about him that often.

“We played together. Quebec Major Junior Hockey League. And,” he laughs, “we were pretty good too. We won the league back in 2009, right before the incident. People always thought that we worked really well together because we were also friends off the ice, which I guess is true.”

“But y’all were more than friends,” Eric supplies.

“Yeah. Not at first. He rubbed me the wrong way at first, for sure. But then...I don’t know. Behind that awful macho exterior there was a real person. I’m convinced that there still is, though he’d be much harder to find these days.”

This is the most Eric has ever heard Jack talk, and he’s absolutely mesmerized.

“Anyway, when I finally headed to Samwell things got really rocky. We called it off for a while, and then last year things got really bad. He showed up to a party and we got into a fight and–”

“Yeah, I heard about that too...”

Jack nods in appreciation at not having to retell that incident. He continues, “Well, after my injury both of our seasons ended and things got better again. Or at least I thought they did. But he was still so mad at me, because he thinks I abandoned him. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I was stuck in the hospital after trying to end everything, but _I_ was the one who abandoned _him_?”

He scoffs and finishes the third beer, dropping the bottle to the floor to join the other two. He doesn’t go for another right away.

“I can’t believe I ever listened to him. He convinced me that _I_ was the bad guy, Bittle.”

“Dear lord,” Eric whispers.

Jack sighs. “So things were always on and off. Every time we broke it off I would try to date other guys, I even tried a couple of girls, but every time I felt something meaningful start, he would somehow _feel_ it or something and show up again. Eventually I stopped trying, and he did stop coming back for a while I guess.”

 _Open your eyes to see, he's growing from inside me_ _  
_ _And I just don't know what I can do, I thought I cut him at the root_   
_Like weeds_

“Were things between you ever good?”

Jack takes a deep breath and a small smile comes to his face. “Yeah. They were at one point. That final season we played together was probably the best time of my life. We were young, and talented, and in love. We did everything together, on and off the ice. It was perfect. The relationship was kept secret for the most part, but my parents knew and were supportive of it.”

Eric sighs. “I wish I had that.” Shit. Had he really said that? Was he really whining about his life when Jack’s evil ex-boyfriend was right downstairs?

“Had what?” Jack asks as he now grabs another beer, shifting so his legs are stretched out and his back is against the head of the bed.

“Just...Any of it, I guess. The supportive parents, the amazing boyfriend, the success so early in life...”

Jack frowns as he takes a small sip, obviously pacing himself now. “Haven’t you ever had a boyfriend?”

Eric feels his face go a little red as he shakes his head. Luckily he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, facing mostly away from Jack.

“Nope. I’ve never even been kissed.” He frowns as he realizes that isn’t true. “Oh wait...”

Jack laughs through his nose. “Forgot about that already, eh? Was your first kiss everything you’ve always dreamed?”

“Yeah, everything and more,” Eric finds himself saying. Of course, he’s thinking about his kiss with Jack as he says it, but Jack will never have to know that. “I know it’s cheesy, but it’s like I really felt fireworks when it happened.”

“Pretty sure the fireworks happened the night before, Bittle.”

Eric’s mouth opens a little and his face twists into amused surprise as he turns to face Jack. “Are you—what do y’all hockey players call it again? Are you chirping me?”

Jack smiles and shrugs, casually lifting the bottle to his mouth again.

“That’s not fair, I was trying to be genuine!”

“Sorry. But you’ve really never...?”

“Not ever. I grew up in the South, honey, it wasn’t exactly accepted and celebrated down there. And in college, I guess I was mostly focused on just...making it through. I was alone, and a little scared, but I have the classic Bittle stubbornness that told me I could do it alone. So I did. Plus, no boy ever really showed interest in me anyway.”

“Are you sure about that? Is it possible that they did, and you just didn’t notice?”

“Highly doubtful.” Another pause. “What about you though, with so many years of experience under your belt, I’m sure you have some crazy stories!”

Eric pulls his legs up onto the bed and faces Jack, whose face is now a little pink from the alcohol. Eric is just finishing his first beer, the pain in his finger long forgotten. He’s having a casual, albeit slightly drunk conversation with Jack Zimmermann and he never wants it to end.

“Well I guess there are a _few_ stories...”

Eric nods expectantly as he reaches for the last full bottle.

“Okay, but if you tell anybody else, I’ll have to...I don’t know, killing is a little extreme, but something along those lines.”

Eric draws two fingers across his mouth. “My lips are sealed!”

Jack rolls his eyes slightly and takes a deep breath. “Okay, so I guess the riskiest thing I ever did makes for a good story. I don’t think I’ve ever told anybody about this, not even Shitty knows.”

“I’m honored! Sorry. Continue.”

“Well, after one of our games during that season we won, Kenny came off the ice really, uh... horny, for lack of a better word.”

Eric feels his cheeks flush slightly. Wow. Jack is already getting into some very private stuff.

“We were the last two people in the locker room afterwards, and he was just being his usual self, making flirty comments and purposely invading my personal space, and then finally—gosh this is so gross, that locker room was _not_ clean and it didn’t smell too great either.”

“What happened?” Eric asks impatiently.

Jack smiles, embarrassed and not able to meet Eric’s gaze. “Well, one thing led to another, and...I blew him. Right there in the locker room. Where any one of our teammates could have walked in and caught us.”

Eric’s face goes an even deeper shade of red as Jack finishes his story, still not looking in Eric’s direction.

Jack goes to take another sip of beer and the words leave Eric’s mouth before he can even think, before he can even consider how stupid and dumb and immature he might sound for saying it.

“Well I guess you got _your_ protein that day.”

Beer shoots straight out of Jack’s nose, wetting the front of his hoodie. Eric blushes harder than ever before in his life as he starts to stammer out an apology, reaching to the desk for some tissues to help Jack clean up. Jack is still laughing, obviously not at all bothered by the beer on his clothes.

“Bittle, I can’t believe you just–”

“ _I know_ , I’m sorry, it was dumb and gross and–”

“Well, it made me laugh.”

Eric stops stammering but he can still feel his blood rushing in his ears as he hands Jack another tissue. Here he was, this small innocent little Southern blond, making a joke about cum of all things. _To his crush._ It was mortifying but at the same time, sort of liberating.

After Jack is situated again, Eric slides his feet back off the bed and gathers up the bottles.

“Well Jack, this was a nice chat, but the others will probably start to wonder where I am. Kent already wanted to kill me before I escaped up here, so I can’t imagine that he’s happy with me now!”

He’s rambling now, his words trying to match his hammering pulse as he hastily gathers the empty bottles and puts them back into the cardboard container. He sticks out a hand toward Jack, who then finishes his final beer and hands it over. Eric makes only brief eye contact, then turns around to leave.

“Hey, Bittle? Thanks for this. Usually I wouldn’t really want company, but... I think I needed this. So, yeah. Thanks.”

Eric faces Jack again and smiles. “Anytime, Jack. Goodnight.”

“Night, Bittle.”

And with that, Eric rushes out the door and back downstairs.

When he reaches the first floor, he’s surprised to find that Kent, Ransom, and Holster are all missing, and everybody else is in the kitchen. They’re all munching on leftover cupcakes from the night before.

Eric pours the empty bottles from the six-pack into the recycling can before folding up the box and recycling that as well.

“Holy shit, Bits,” Lardo says as she notices, “did you drink all of those yourself?”

“No. I had some help from Jack.”

Shitty drops his cupcake on the floor in shock and Lardo almost chokes on hers. Once Shitty cleans up the mess from the floor, he pulls Eric out of the kitchen.

“He drank?”

Eric nods.

“And he’s okay?”

“Yes, Shitty. Jack is absolutely fine.”

“Well, what the fuck did you say to him?”

“Nothing, really. He just started drinking, and then he started talking, and then he _kept_ talking and then before I knew it, I had his whole damn life story!”

“Dude...I know I’ve said this before, but I’m more and more convinced everyday that you’re an honest fucking wizard or some shit. Brah doesn’t open up to _anybody_. The fucker hardly even talks to _me_ anymore, for Christ’s sake, and I’m supposed to be his best fucking bro.” Shitty eyes Eric for a second before saying, “You’ve got some kind of connection, I’m sure of it.”

Shitty’s drunk and Eric’s a little buzzed and he wants his good mood to continue, so he stops him.

“Shitty, no. I many not be over him but I’m trying to just be his friend. Sometimes friends tell each other stuff like that, especially after four beers.”

“He fucking drank four beers?!”

“Not the point. We’re not letting me get my hopes up anymore, remember?”

“Well how about just, like, a little bit?”

“ _No_ , absolutely not. You’re drunk, and I’m happy with the way things are right now! This is okay for me.”

“Alright, Bitty, whatever you say.”

Shitty stumbles slightly on his way back into the kitchen, grabbing another cupcake and promising Lardo that he won’t drop this one when she threatens to take it from him.

Eric sighs and leans against the wall outside the kitchen. He could tell himself and Shitty and Lardo until he turned blue that he wasn’t going to have any kind of hopes for that kind of relationship with Jack, but in all honesty the thought was in the back of his mind every minute of every hour. Not as overwhelming as in the beginning, more just annoyingly, vaguely _present_. He shakes his head and half-heartedly scolds himself for letting his mind wander again, then joins his friends in the kitchen.

Later, he’ll only remember little bits and pieces from the conversation they have over cupcakes, but every word Jack said to him is engraved in his mind, running on repeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a LOT of fun writing this one guys. The conversation between Jack and Bitty (especially Bitty's little one-liner) is one of the things that's been in my head since the very beginning, so it feels good to finally get it out there! 
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds


	11. once was love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Once Was Love by Ingrid Michaelson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5pBz7ai2r3w)

Eric finds it odd that Ransom and Holster are still gone the next morning and makes a note to himself to ask Shitty about it. Shitty’s the one who somehow knows everything that goes on in the house.

Luckily, Shitty is already awake somehow, sitting at the table in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hands. He’s staring at the stove, as if waiting for food to somehow appear magically.

“Shitty? You okay?”

Shitty blinks and turns to Eric. “Hmm? Oh, fine. I couldn’t sleep, and I’m kinda hungry, but too hungover to make anything, so...”

“What do you want? I can be a little late to work!”

“What? Oh, no, Bits, that’s not what I was trying to say! I’ll be fine, I don’t wanna make you late.”

Eric tsks and puts a hand on Shitty’s shoulder.

“Shitty Knight, I refuse to leave this kitchen while a friend sits here starving. I can make you some scrambled eggs, and they’ll be done in a flash!”

“Bitty, you really don’t have to–”

“Ah ah ah, yes I do! Feeding people is sorta my job around here, in case you haven’t noticed. Just sit tight.”

Shitty opens his mouth to argue but realizes it’s pointless. He puts the cup of coffee down and rubs both of his temples, sucking in a deep breath.

Eric gets the eggs out of the fridge and starts to hum quietly as he cracks a few and sprays a pan.

“Bitty, are you humming Crazy in Love at like, six in the fucking morning?”

Eric smiles and turns back to Shitty. “I didn’t realize. Beyonce is my favorite, so sometimes her music just...flows through me. Especially when I’m cooking!”

Shitty chuckles and nods, taking another sip of coffee. After a few minutes, the eggs are done, and Eric piles them onto a plate, bringing them over to Shitty and patting his head like a doting mother. He sits down next to him and hands Shitty a fork.

“Thanks Bits, I owe you one. Or like, probably a thousand.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s my pleasure!”

Eric watches happily as Shitty eats his eggs, the room quiet bar the occasional clink of silverware on plate.

“So, any idea where Ransom and Holster went off to last night?”

Shitty shrugs as puts his fork down and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Not sure honestly. Wherever they went, they took Parson with them.”

Eric frowns. That was...odd, to say the least. They _hated_ Parse, couldn’t stand him, so unless they kidnapped him or something, Eric couldn’t even fathom what was going on. Shitty shrugs again and chuckles, obviously just as perplexed. He starts to shovel eggs into his mouth again as Jack comes into the kitchen.

“Morning, Jack!”

“Morning, you two. I’m about to go out for my run, do you need anything at the store, Bittle? I always pass by on my way back.”

Wow, that’s oddly considerate. Sure, they had a nice moment last night, but it seems a little out of character.

“No, I think we’re good on everything, but thanks anyway!”

“Jack, dude, one of these days you gotta have Bits make you some eggs. I don’t know how he does it, but this shit is amazing.”

Eric smiles and pats Shitty’s arm. “Oh stop it, they’re just simple scrambled eggs, no big deal!”

Jack raises an eyebrow and huffs. “The man doesn’t play around when it comes to food, Bittle.”

“Nor do I Mr. Zimmermann! Do you want some before you go? It’ll only take a minute.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll just end up cramping.”

“Oh. Right. Well, uh, enjoy your run then!”

There’s a flash of...something in Jack’s expression as he nods to Eric and turns on his heel to exit the kitchen. Eric frowns a little and Shitty raises an eyebrow.

“Everything good Bitty?”

“What? Yeah. It’s just...never mind.”

Shitty waggles his eyebrows a little bit. “He volunteered to pick up groceries bro, fuckin’ groceries! That seems like a Jack Zimmermann attempt to flirt if you ask me, however lame it may be.”

Eric shakes his head and grabs the plate from Shitty, ignoring his “Hey, I wasn’t done!”

“We talked about this last night, Shitty, though maybe you were too drunk to remember.” He winces and bites his lip as he turns to put the plate in the sink. That had come out meaner than he meant it to.

“I know, Bits, I’m just saying,” Shitty replies, putting his hands up in surrender. “Maybe just consider all of the possibilities, no matter how insane they seem to you. You keep selling yourself short.”

“It’s not about that, it’s about not getting my hopes up, so I don’t end up a big sad mess.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“ _It isn’t!_ ” Eric almost shouts as he slams the plate down into the sink. He can feel tears in his eyes and there’s a tense pause. He mutters, "Fuck," and then Shitty is behind him, hugging him and resting his head on Eric’s shoulder. Eric starts to cry and his body shakes in Shitty’s arms as he returns the hug the best he can. So much for being more open with his friends. It frustrates him that his natural instinct is to hold everything in until he just can’t anymore.

He hears two quiet voices saying, “Oh,” behind them and recognizes the voices as Lardo’s and Jack’s. Jack clears his throat as Shitty removes his arms from Eric and the blond wipes his eyes.

“I, um, forgot a water bottle. Sorry.”

Why’s he apologizing? It doesn’t matter, he reaches into the fridge and grabs some water and practically jogs out of the kitchen.

Lardo crosses to the sink and grabs Eric’s hand. “You okay, Bits?”

Eric groans, frustrated, and wrenches his hand out of hers. “I’m _fine,_ dammit, why do y’all keep asking me that?”

Lardo frowns. “Because you don’t seem fine.”

More tears threaten to spill from his eyes as he sits down at the table. He takes a deep breath. “I’m...sorry. I know I’m being nasty, I’m just a little tired is all. I’m gonna be late for work.”

“Okay. Hey just so you know, Friday night tradition is that we just hang outside and have a bonfire, so tonight should be chill,” Lardo says carefully.

Eric nods and wipes his eyes one last time, sniffling and standing up. “I’ll see y’all later, then.”

Jack is on the front porch doing his pre-run stretches as Eric exits the little white house. Eric finds himself stealing a glance at Jack’s ass as the older man bends over to touch his toes then, rolls his eyes, chastising himself and rushing down the porch stairs.

He’s barely made it four steps off the property before Jack is next to him, already jogging, but still keeping Eric’s walking speed.

“You okay Bittle? You seemed upset in there.”

“I’m–” Eric is already raising his voice angrily but he stops himself. “Yeah. It’s okay. Just a rough morning, Jack.”

“Okay.”

And thankfully, that’s the end of that topic.

“So are you joining us tonight? Apparently tradition calls for a more relaxed evening,” Eric asks.

Jack shrugs as he runs ahead a little, then turns around and starts jogging backward.

“Jack, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

He waves Eric off. “I think it depends on whether or not Parse is back,” he says, answering Eric’s prior question.

Eric nods. “That’s fair.”

Jack continues to jog backwards, occasionally glancing over his shoulder so he doesn’t trip. Eric rolls his eyes and Jack sees, chuckling and stopping for a second until Eric catches up to him.

“Bittle, are you sure you don’t wanna talk about...whatever it is? You just seem down.”

Eric shrugs. “It’s just early. Not everybody can be peppy like you.”

Jack purses his lips, not convinced, but again drops the subject. Eric is thankful for that. He knows Shitty and Lardo mean well, but Jack knows when to stop pushing an issue.

“Well, I think this is where we part ways. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

Eric nods. He really can’t figure this boy out. How can he be so content in the late hours of the night, yet still so energetic in the morning? Shitty’s use of the word “robot” to describe Jack hasn’t been completely accurate in Eric’s experience, but the way he’s always so present, but still chill, is a point for robot Jack.

Eric watches as Jack jogs in the opposite direction and tries to control his breath and his heartbeat in the cool summer morning. The sun is just starting to peek from behind the clouds and the sky is a muted pinkish-blue and Eric should feel peaceful, but his inner turmoil is preventing that at the moment. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists, grounding himself, then continues on his way.

It’s a slow day at the bakery. Eric spends a lot of it on his phone, scouring the internet for interesting new recipes and trying desperately not to vague tweet about his feelings. Positive vague tweets are okay in his book, but negative ones are annoying. He even annoys himself sometimes.

Holly works back in the kitchen for most of the day, occasionally coming out to the counter to check on Eric. He can tell she’s avoiding him a little bit because of his bad mood and he really can’t blame her, but it doesn’t persuade him to try to cheer up at all either.

At around noon, she tells Eric to go take a walk and maybe get some lunch, so he sighs and takes a short walk around the block, trying to clear his head.

The last thing he needs is to bump into Kent Parson.

“Kent? What a... _pleasure_ , to see you,” Eric says through gritted teeth, trying hard not to snap at Kent just for being there.

“Great, I come into town to buy one thing and I run into you of all people. Have fun last night kissing my boyfriend’s ass? There won’t be any of that tonight, right? I might vomit.”

Eric’s heart falls. So Kent really does plan on coming back to the house again. “He isn’t your boyfriend, and I wasn’t–”

“I don’t really think that’s any of your business, _Eric,_ ” Kent spits, punctuating the c in Eric’s name.

“I think you’re making it my business. Why bring it up? Unless you’re really afraid that I could steal him from you of course,” Eric spits back. He’s talking a big game, but honestly he’s a little scared; Kent is bigger than Eric, more muscular, less hesitant about hurting people. But they’re in public, he wouldn’t try anything in public would he? Plus Eric has no real intentions of “stealing” Jack from anybody. The words are out there, though, and he can’t take them back. Kent locks his jaw and glares at the smaller boy but doesn’t respond immediately.

“Fuck you, Bittle. That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

Eric rolls his eyes. One thing he’s learned is that Kent isn’t the brightest human on the planet, so when it comes to verbal skirmishes Eric has the upper hand. Kent turns on his heel and storms away, pulling out his phone no doubt to text one of his friends and say something nasty.

Eric’s heart jumps. What if Kent tells Jack what he just said? Eric wouldn’t put it past him, and if Jack found out about Eric’s crush...Well he doesn't wanna think about that. Instead, he decides to bask in the glory of putting Kent Parson in his place once again. And you know what? By the time he gets back to the bakery for the second half of his shift, his mood really has improved.

 

“Hey y’all, I’m back again! Things have been crazy this week, so I’m sorry for not updating you that often. I’m... okay, for the most part. I still have little moments where I’ll think about something that Jack said, or the way his eyes kinda sparkle a little bit when he smiles, which lemme tell ya, is not often enough, and then I get all teary and angry and stuff. I–I was kinda mean to my friends this morning too, and I feel real guilty about it, even though they usually understand me pretty well and they’re probably not mad. I’ll have to apologize to them. They’re just trying to help.

“Anyway, I ran into Jack’s ex in town today. All of that’s a long story of course, but there was a smackdown basically. He was all, ‘stay the hell away from Jack, this is none of your business,’ and I was all, ‘why are you so worried, unless you think I’m actually gonna take him from you,’ and y’all should’ve seen the look on his face! It was priceless! Now, I’ll admit I sunk to his level a little bit in admitting that Jack was some kind of object that can be stolen or not, but it was all talk anyway. I have no intentions of making any kind of move, because that would just be stupid. First of all, Jack’s still dealing with his ex hanging around and making things difficult. Besides that, well... I’ve been over the reasons enough times. It just wouldn’t go well for me. I’m okay with the way that things are between us! I’m even happy, at times....”

As soon as the vlog is posted Eric knocks on Jack’s door. Jack answers and cracks it open, looking at Eric with just one eye through the door. He looks scared but he sighs and relaxes when he sees who it is, then opens the door more.

“Just want to make sure–”

“That I’m not Parse. I get it.”

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Eric nods. “Yeah. He is. I’m sorry, I thought after earlier he might change his mind, but–”

“Hold on, what happened earlier?”

“Oh it was nothing, I ran into him outside the bakery. He was rude. Nothing groundbreaking.”

“He didn’t upset you, did he?”

Eric pauses. “No?” he replies slowly. “I’m an adult Jack, I can handle myself.” Eric wishes that Jack wouldn’t have to feel responsible for Kent’s actions.

Jack shakes himself for a second, closing his eyes. “Right, yeah, of course.”

“Yeah...Well if he leaves, I guess I’ll let you know?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Jack sighs, closing the door as Eric turns and heads down the stairs.

When he enters the kitchen, he can see the makings of a bonfire starting in the yard outside. Through the sliding glass he can hear music playing and the sounds of muted chatter. He smiles, ready for a relaxing night with his friends, and grabs a beer from the fridge.

He closes the door behind him, taking a second to deeply breathe in the smoky scent of the summer night. It’s actually a little bit chilly, so he’s grateful for the warmth of the fire as he finds an empty chair around the large pit.

Shitty is struggling to break a large chunk of wood, going for the stomp-on-it-hard-until-it-smashes method but not meeting much success. Lardo is giggling and trying to take Snapchat videos of Shitty’s attempts in the dim glow of the small fire. Finally Holster rolls his eyes and takes the wood from Shitty, using his bare hands to rip it in half. Shitty stares at him in awe.

“What kind of fucking Captain America bullshit… I loosened it up for you!”

“Uh huh,” Holster replies, smiling smugly as he takes his seat again. Chowder is playing with a stick in the fire, poking at the glowing embers and sitting a little too close for Eric’s mom friend instincts.

Dex and Nursey are sharing a chair; Dex is in Nursey’s laps and their hands are intertwined and Eric can’t help but smile at the two of them in the flickering orange light of the fire.

Kent is sitting between Ransom and Chowder, practically oozing annoyance and anger. Eric can see the fire flicker in his eyes, but it doesn't have anything to do with the pit in front of him. Kent looks at him then quickly looks away as they lock eyes, his face going even more sour. Eric smirks a little and luckily nobody notices. Lardo is scrolling through a playlist on her phone, trying to pick a song chill enough to match the mood. She decides on some violin instrumental that Eric can appreciate more or less.

Shitty quickly runs inside and comes back out with a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers and a huge package of the classic Hershey’s chocolate bars. Eric almost gasps when he sees.

“Y’all...I haven’t made s’mores in years.”

Shitty beams as he starts to open everything up. “Well it’s about time that changed, huh?”

Eric nods enthusiastically as Shitty hands him a marshmallow and a stick, then scoots to the edge of his seat so he can get the marshmallow in the fire. He feels like a kid again, sitting in his backyard with his parents, roasting marshmallows and hotdogs and catching fireflies and staring up at the stars. The northeastern summer air isn’t as hot or sticky as it always was in Georgia, but it brings him back nonetheless.

After patiently roasting his marshmallow to golden brown perfection on every side, Eric carefully places it on the chocolate and uses the graham crackers to slide the gooey golden blob off of the stick. He carefully lays it down next to him as he starts to dig into the s’more, getting a face full of that hot sugary taste, blending with the already melting chocolate and the crunch of the outer crackers. He closes his eyes and smiles as he chews, not even bothering to wipe off the little smudge of white he can feel on the corner of his mouth. It tastes like summer at home.

He finishes the s’more, eating the rest of it just as carefully, savoring the differences in marshmallow to chocolate ratio with each bite. Finally he finishes and wipes the small mess off his face, licking his fingers.

“You know what we could use?” Shitty asks after a number of silent minutes. “More alcohol.”

Eric shrugs. He feels pretty good as it is, he doesn’t really have any intentions of getting drunk tonight. But wait. Suddenly he has an idea.

He gasps and stands up, saying, “Shitty, pass me a couple graham crackers and a chocolate bar. I’ll be right back!”

Shitty raises and eyebrow but hands the treats over to Eric, who runs into the kitchen. He melts the chocolate in the microwave and crushes the graham crackers into crumbs, then scours the counter of alcohol for the marshmallow vodka he’s certain Lardo made Shitty buy a couple weeks ago. He finds it and begins to assemble the shots that popped into his head while still cherishing the sweetness of his s’more. He dips the rims of the shot glasses in the melted chocolate and then the graham cracker crumbs. He pours a little bit of chocolate into the bottom of each then adds the marshmallow vodka. Alright, so it’s pretty much straight up vodka with a little bit of chocolate, but he has a feeling nobody would complain.

They don’t.

Eric’s s’mores shots are gone faster than it took him to make them. He tries one himself of course and finds that it doesn’t exactly give the best imitation of a s’more, but then again it’s essentially straight up alcohol.

Lardo downs three and burps, grabbing Eric’s shoulder to steady herself. “Bits, if the whole baking thing doesn’t work out—even though it probably will and shit—you could def be a solid bar tender. Did you just make this shit up, just now?”

Eric nods. “I remembered that when we went to the store for alcohol a little while ago you forced Shitty to buy that marshmallow stuff because you thought it would be funny, and then… Yeah, it just kinda came to me!”

Even Parse has to take a shot with everybody going on about how good they are. “Whatever. It’s alright, I guess.”

Eric rolls his eyes but takes it as a compliment.

He gathers up the empty glasses and brings them back inside, putting them in the sink hastily before rushing back out to join his friends. By now, the fire is pretty large and everybody is a little buzzed and Lardo’s chill playlist is certainly helping keep the mood relaxed.

Eric settles into his chair as one song ends and an all too familiar energetic horn section starts to play the intro to Crazy in Love. Shitty starts to laugh hysterically as he sees the look on Eric’s face. “Brah, you were humming it this morning and I forgot how much of a jam it was, so I forced Lards to put it on the playlist!”

“Yeah, not exactly the best addition to my playlist that’s literally just called ‘Chill.’”

Eric shakes his head but he’s smiling. In the seventh grade, when Eric first truly discovered his love for the Queen Bey, he choreographed a whole dance to Crazy in Love. Then in high school, he changed the choreography up and made it a little more...mature. He was no stranger to dancing or moving his body, and even as the first verse comes on he finds himself picturing the movements in his head and feeling them in his body. He takes one look across the fire at Parse and stands up, walking with purpose away from the fire, in time with the music. He hears a few cheers as he jumps right into the dance, his body suddenly taking over and his mind letting go.

Eric prides himself on this choreography. He has just enough movement to go along with the words, coupled with fierce and sharp movements right on the beats of the song. As he’s doing it, he realizes that there are probably one too many body rolls, but then again that was one of the things he was best at when it came to dancing. He finds himself mouthing along with the words, and Lardo turns up the music, laughing and turning her chair for a better look. In the firelight Eric feels like a goddamn fantasy as he looks Kent Parson straight in the eyes and gyrates his hips, then turns around and drops it all the way down to the cool damp grass. That warrants quite a few more cheers and some whistling from his audience. When he comes back up Kent is rolling his eyes and looking away, obviously not amused. Eric has to fight back though, and this was the perfect revenge. Just being flawless.

Finally the last chorus comes on and this is his shining moment. He repeats the same movements from the previous choruses at double time, hitting each pose and position with accuracy only years of practice could make possible. He knows every single high, belty ad-lib that Beyonce does over that final refrain and he mouths right along with them, as if he wrote the song himself. Finally, the song fades out and he stands with his hands on his hips, one leg popped and his head held high. He’s breathless but he starts to laugh as his friends applaud thunderously, no doubt disturbing some neighbors. He takes a mock bow and when he comes back up, his eyes flit to a small movement in the glass door. Jack is standing there, smiling slightly.

Eric is grateful for the orange glow of the bonfire on his face that masks the sudden redness he feels. Jack meets his eyes and his smiles broadens slightly as he turns around and goes to the fridge.

“Um,” Eric says between pants, “I’m gonna go...get some...water.”

Kent frowns and follows Eric’s gaze, spotting Jack through the doors. He huffs and slumps down into his chair, poking at a stick in the fire with his shoe, as Eric quickly slides the door open and enters the kitchen.

When he comes in, Jack hears and looks over from the fridge. “Hey Bittle, nice dance moves.”

Eric couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if Jack was chirping him, but either way he felt mortified. “How much, uh, did you see?”

Jack shrugs casually. “Pretty much all of it. What song was that?”

Eric’s embarrassment melts away and is replaced by shock. “What did you just ask me?”

Jack frowns and pulls out a beer from the fridge, closing it with his leg and looking innocently at Eric. “I just wanted to know what song it was.”

Eric stares at him for a second. “Beyonce? Crazy in Love? You’ve never heard one of the most iconic pop songs of all time?”

Jack shakes his head.

“ _Never_?!”

He laughs and shakes his head again.

“No, I’ve never heard it before. I kinda liked it though. It was...fun!”

“Fun doesn’t even begin to cover it, Mr. Zimmermann. Listen, Beyonce is my favorite artist of all time, and that song sits at the very top of my list of favorite songs too, so the fact that you’ve never even heard it is frankly, offensive!”

He stares Jack down, trying to maintain his faux serious expression, but after a second starts to giggle.

“Did you really like the dance?”

Jack nods as he takes a sip of beer. “Made that up by yourself, eh?”

“You bet your ass I did! I’ve been perfecting it my whole life, this was the first and only performance in front of other people, so you just witnessed something very unique.”

“That’s a shame. I’d...I’m sure lots of people would love to see that again.”

Eric feels his heart drop out of his ass. No way. Jack just kinda flirted with him. Maybe. He laughs nervously. “Yeah, well I’m a very exclusive performer.”

Jack hums, amused, as he takes another sip of beer.

“I’m surprised to see you down here, you know, considering...”

Jack shrugs. “I was getting lonely in my room. Which is a little weird. Plus I was thirsty. And I’ve been thinking a lot about Kenny, especially since we talked,” he nods to Eric, “and I realized I can’t let him win. I can’t let him keep bullying me into locking myself in my room. So now, he’s nothing to me. I couldn’t care less, is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Eric raises an eyebrow. “Wow, that’s very...final.”

Jack chuckles. “I know, it’s a little harsh, but you’ve seen who he really is. He’s just not worth worrying over anymore.”

 _Everyone is hurting now, and everything is burning down_ _  
_ _But I can build back my new town today_

_Just because there once was love don't mean a thing_

Eric almost leaves the kitchen before remembering why he even went back inside in the first place. He quickly fills a glass with water and downs it, not sure if his heart is beating from his intense dance routine or the fact that Jack has officially moved on. Does that put him on the market again? Eric almost physically slaps himself. _Stop thinking like that. Even if he is back on the market, you can’t afford that store._ Then he chastises himself for the use of another bad metaphor and takes a few deep breaths before joining his friends around the fire again. He receives lots of compliments the rest of the night, both on his s’mores shots and on how well he can move his cute little ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter not inspired by Crazy in Love by Beyonce, in an interesting turn of events. Believe it or not, I've been planning this chapter since weeks ago, this was one of the first that I laid out and really put detail to, and I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out.  
> Quick question for all of you lovely readers, do any of you actually listen to the songs that go with the chapters? I mean it doesn't really matter because I already have it all planned out anyway, but I'd still like to know if my grand ideas are coming to life and everything.  
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson


	12. the night is still young, and so are we

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [The Night is Still Young by Nicki Minaj](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvN5h9BE444)

Eric accidentally oversleeps on Saturday, which isn’t like him at all. He gets ready in a frenzy, trying to tame his hair and rub sleep out of his eyes. He made a good decision in not drinking much the previous night because he can’t afford to be dealing with a hangover this morning on top being late for work. He looks at his phone as he stumbles down the stairs, trying to button his pants one-handed. It’s already almost nine, but there aren’t any texts or calls from Holly, which is odd. He skips breakfast, running right past the kitchen where Shitty and Lardo are enjoying a relaxing morning and talking about plans for the final party of Smashfest.

He doesn’t know much about the details, only that lots of people from Samwell are coming, plus an assortment of people from the neighborhood. Shitty had asked at one point if Eric could possibly bring some food from the bakery, but he hadn’t had a chance to ask Holly about it all week. That was just one more thing to stress about. He knows that Shitty and Lardo plan to go out today and make sure the house is well-stocked with alcohol, but he isn’t really sure how much alcohol that implies. Honestly, Eric is shocked at how much alcohol they’ve already torn through in the matter of a week. If his friends drank like this the rest of the year, he’d be worried for their health.

The sky is already a vibrant blue, with clouds lazily rolling by. Eric envies them, they don’t have anywhere to go, they don’t have a huge party they have to prepare for, they don’t have boy problems complicating their already ridiculous lives. They can just drift on by, not even aware of the craziness of the world below them. Or, not aware of anything, really. _They’re fucking clouds, Eric_ , he thinks to himself. Maybe he needs to get more sleep, but he doesn’t see that happening tonight.

When he gets to the bakery, all seems okay. There isn’t a crazy line out the door or smoke pouring out of the windows. He pushes the door open, smiling at the familiar tinkle of the bell, and sees that the store is practically deserted. The only people present are Holly and a couple of people Eric hasn’t ever seen before, all sitting at a table in the back corner.

“Ah, here he is now! Eric! Can you come over here?”

He frowns, wary, but makes his way over to the table as Holly stands up and puts a hand on his lower back.

“This here is Eric Bittle. Eric, this is Sheila Fonta. She’s a reporter for Channel 7 News, and this is her cameraman, Mike.”

He’s a little dazed and confused. Why are they here? Sheila and Mike both stand and shake his hand.

“Uh, it’s nice to meet y’all!”

They smile and giggle at each other and he frowns again, then realizes he had said ‘y’all’ and to some people around here, that’s a little strange.

“So Eric,” Sheila begins, sitting down, “we want to interview you for a local interest clip. One of our associates brought in a box of mini pies the other day and they were _to die for_ , and you may not be aware of this, but you’re becoming a local hero.”

He looks at Holly, gaping. She smiles and nods encouragingly.

“Are you sure hero’s the right word? I mean, I _bake,_ for God’s sake.”

Sheila laughs. “To a lot of people, that makes you pretty damn heroic, kid.”

“Okay. Um, would y’all give us a quick second?” He smiles politely and grabs Holly’s arm, guiding her away from the table. He hears Sheila whisper something like “so adorable” when she thinks they’re out of earshot, then pulls Holly back into the kitchen.

“Did you do this?!”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m telling you sugar, you’ve really brought something special to this bakery!”

“But shouldn’t they be interviewing _you_? I mean, it’s your bakery, your name is on the sign outside!”

“Honey, I’m not the one who pulls honest to goodness _magic_ out of these ovens. I’d be stealing your thunder, they’re here for you! _Because_ of you. Everyone in the area is gonna see this. If you weren’t a celebrity before, you will be now.”

“Lord,” Eric breathes. “Holly I’ve only been here a month, this is... I don’t know what to say.”

She grabs his arm, rubbing it gently. “You don’t have to say anything. Well, I mean, except to the camera, of course.”

Eric laughs nervously. “Right. They haven’t been here long, have they? I’m so sorry for being late!”

“It’s alright, sweetheart, they only just got here. I managed to stall ‘em for you.” She winks and gives Eric’s arm one last squeeze. “Now, get out there!”

Eric joins the team back at the table. Sheila smiles and stands up. “All good to go now?”

“Yes, ma’am, sorry about that!”

She waves a hand idly. “Don’t worry about it! So, we’re gonna have you stand here so we can see the counter with all the food displayed behind you. We get a peek at the kitchen from this angle, too. Perfect! I’m gonna stand right here and ask you a few basic questions: your name, where you’re from, you know, simple stuff!” She talks so fast that Eric feels like his head is spinning, but he nods and stands in the spot she’s gesturing to. He can hear Holly working on something back in kitchen, and wishes she was out here with him. He’d feel more comfortable.

“Ready, Mike?”

He gives a thumbs-up and nods.

“Hello, this is Sheila Fonta with Channel 7 News in the morning, here at Holly’s Bakery with young baking prodigy, Eric Bittle! Now Eric, how long have you been working here at Holly’s?”

Baking prodigy? Not quite, but he wasn’t going to argue with it.

“About a month, ma’am!”

“So polite! Where are you from, Eric?”

“Well, I grew up in Madison, Georgia. That’s where the accent comes from. I went to college at Boston University, which is how I wound up here.”

“Wow! Now, thanks to you, Holly’s has been the talk of the town recently. What exactly do you do that’s so special?”

Eric schools his expression, that question could have been worded less offensively.

“It isn’t just me. Holly is a genius, too, and so sweet! We’re the only ones working here, so we’ve gotten real close, and if it weren’t for her treating me so well, I doubt I’d have gotten a chance to get so much of my baking out into the community,” he says, not really answering her question.

“Speaking of your baking, let’s ask what everybody wants to hear. What’s your secret? Like, for example, what makes those apple pies so darn good?”

“Oh, ma’am, I’m afraid that’s an ancient family secret. The recipe has been passed down in the Bittle family for who knows how many generations, so sharing it with the public might cause some kind of disturbance in the balance of the universe.”

Sheila laughs, but Eric is dead serious. He smiles with her so as not to look awkward, but he can feel his cheeks burning slightly.

“So, Eric, what are your plans for the future?”

He shrugs. “Right now, there aren’t really any! The bakery is doing really well, so for now, this is it. I’m plenty happy where I’m at!”

She makes a face that somebody might make at a puppy and places a hand over her chest. “Isn’t he just adorable? How old did you say you were, Eric?”

“22.”

“And only 22! Already doing well, congratulations.”

“Thank you, ma’am!”

“Alright, well that’s it from us. If you want to taste the best apple pie on the East Coast, pay a visit to Holly’s...” He starts to tune her out as she gives the address and closes out the interview, looking only vaguely in the direction of the camera.

“Okay Eric, we got everything we needed! Thanks for doing this, we should be showing it as a little segment sometime during the morning show on Monday, so stay tuned!”

Holly comes out of the kitchen, brushing her hands free of flour on her apron. “Y’all all done, now? You wanna take something for the road?”

“Oh, Holly, you’re just darling! We’d love a couple of those mini pies, if you’ve got some.”

Holly looks at Eric, who nods. There are a few pre-made that he could heat up quickly, so he gives Sheila and Mike one last polite smile and rushes back into the kitchen, throwing his apron on. He pulls the pies out and throws them in an oven that Holly had been preheating for something else and in a few minutes, he has a box of four hot mini pies.

Holly comes back as he’s closing up the box and carefully rests a hand between his shoulder blades. “You good, honey?”

He nods. “It was just a little weird, that’s all. You would think I’d be used to talking to a camera, with my vlog and all, but it’s weird when somebody else is dictating the conversation. Plus, that woman scares me a little, nobody can be _that_ peppy.”

Holly laughs as she grabs the box. “She had two cups of coffee before you showed up, and that was just _here_. Lord knows how many she had beforehand.”

Eric chuckles. “What were you preheating that oven for? I can get that started while you finish up with them.”

“Oh, right! Shitty called me earlier this week and asked if I could let you do some baking for your last party tonight,” she replies, rolling her eyes but smiling. “So I figured since we’re having such a slow day that I may as well just let you do your thing. Smashfest only comes around once a year, so who am I to stand in the way of it?”

“Are you sure Holly? If you need me on counter duty, just let me know, I don’t want you out there all day working your butt off while I sit in here and enjoy myself.”

She pats his cheek affectionately then turns to leave the kitchen. “Wouldn’t dream of it! You have fun now!”

He chuckles and scans the kitchen, trying to decide what to make. Finally, he decides that some cookies, cupcakes, and of course mini pies are probably the way to go. Finger foods. Nothing that involves cutting, the last thing that house needs is a hungry drunk swinging around a knife. He cracks his knuckles and his neck then puts in his headphones, ready to tackle what may be his biggest baking day of all time.

 

Later in the evening, once Eric has everything boxed up and ready to go, he calls Shitty to ask for a ride. He was going to attempt to walk home, but he made more food than he originally planned to. When Shitty answers the phone, he’s out of breath and there’s a lot of noise in the background.

“Bits? Hey, now isn’t the best time! There was a miscommunication about the start time, everybody’s already at the house. Or at least I _hope_ this is everybody, fucking hell... Everything okay?”

“Uh, well yeah, but I need a ride to get all of this food to the house.”

“Fuck. Shit. Bits, I can’t leave right now, Ransom and Holster took off with Lardo to get the alcohol and the fucking frogs already joined the insanity. Can you text Jack and ask him?”

“Sure! Uh...Wait. I don’t...I don’t have Jack’s number.”

There’s a pause and a sigh. “Alright, I’ll run upstairs real quick and get him. He’ll be there in five hopefully!”

“Thanks, Shitty, see you in a bit!”

Sure enough, Jack pulls up five minutes later, dressed surprisingly nicely. Eric raises an eyebrow as he comes into the bakery and grabs a couple boxes.

“No hoodie tonight, Mr. Zimmermann?”

Jack laughs quietly through his nose as Eric follows him out to the car with the boxes. “I figured I would try to look nice tonight. Because it’s the last party and all?”

“Oh! You’re gonna be there?” Eric asks, surprised.

“Yeah. I talked to Kenny last night and told him not to come back, so tonight should be safe,” Jack says. He’s smiling.

“Really?!”

“Really. He’s leaving town tomorrow morning. Hopefully that’s the last any of us will have to see of him. At least for a while, anyway. Oh, so Shitty told me you don’t have my number?”

Eric rolls his eyes. “I’ll bet he did,” he says sarcastically. Shitty was a very persistent wingman.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Just Shitty being Shitty. But, um, he _is_ right, I don’t have it.”

Jack places his stack of boxes in the back seat and holds his hand out. Eric unlocks his phone and hands it to Jack, who inputs his contact information. Then he does something unexpected. He takes a selfie. A fucking selfie. Jack Zimmermann takes a selfie on Eric’s phone and Eric almost misses it as he leans into the car to put the rest of the boxes next to Jack’s. Sure enough though, Jack holds his phone at arm’s length and Eric hears the camera click.

He looks at Jack, shocked, who shrugs and chuckles. “It asked for a contact picture!”

“I know, you just don’t seem the selfie type to me.”

“I’m not,” he admits, getting in the driver’s seat. Eric is about to open the car door when he hears knocking behind him. Holly is standing at the doors of the bakery, gesturing for Eric to come over. He frowns but quickly goes over.

“Did I forget something?”

Holly pulls him inside, looking over Eric’s shoulder at Jack.

“Holly! I have to go, apparently the party started earlier than Shitty anticipated, and they’re in dire need of baked goods.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Eric’s heart stops. “What?”

“The boy you were so upset about the other day. It’s Jack, isn’t it?”

“Holly, this really isn’t a good time–”

“Eric Bittle, the answer is either a yes or a no. Is Jack Zimmermann the boy in question?!”

He sighs and quickly says, “Yes, but how could you tell?”

“I saw the way you looked at him just now, honey. It wasn’t too hard.”

“Ugh, I hate how obvious I am about this; it makes me feel so damn silly. Everyone else seems to be able to tell, but luckily, he’s too oblivious to notice.”

“And the same goes for you, apparently.”

“Wait, what?”

Jack honks the horn and grins, looking out the rolled down passenger side window. Eric groans and starts to push open the door, then turns back for a second.

“I have to go, but this conversation isn’t over!”

“You’re right, sugar, it isn’t!”

 

The five minute drive home is pure torture. What had Holly meant when she said that? Maybe she was just messing with him? But she wasn’t really the kind of person to play with emotions like that. A comfortable silence hung in the air, occasionally punctured by the sound of another car rushing by the open window or the boxes in the back shifting. Eric is constantly looking back to make sure everything is still intact, and to try to get his mind off Jack, who’s sitting right next to him. It feels good, and it feels right, and Eric never wants it to stop. That’s what’s so torturous about it. Why does he have to convince himself that something that feels so natural is so bad for him?

He’s relieved when they pull up to the little white house. The car has barely stopped before Eric is jumping out and opening the back doors, grabbing as many boxes as he can and hurrying into the house. He almost trips on the porch but a partygoer catches him and ensures that the boxes don’t tip over. He breathes a thank you then rests the boxes on his knee as he twists the knob open.

Immediately, he can see why some people are already chilling outside on the porch. The party is absolutely out of hand, and the alcohol patrol hasn’t even showed up yet. People are standing on furniture that’s been moved around, the music is so loud Eric can’t even hear his own thoughts, and he can see Shitty rushing around trying to keep things more or less in order. Shitty makes brief eye contact with Eric and his shoulders slump in something that looks almost like defeat. Eric gives him a little sympathetic smile before he enters the kitchen.

What he sees gives him a straight up heart attack. There are people sitting on his counters, somebody is playing with the gas lighters on the stove, a couple of guys are rooting through the fridge in an attempt to find more alcohol, and a couple is standing on Eric’s kitchen table making out. He feels himself start to shake and suddenly he’s yelling, “ _Y’ALL BETTER GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF THIS KITCHEN RIGHT THIS MOMENT IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S BEST FOR YOU_!”

Noise in the kitchen comes to a complete stop as everybody turns toward the source of the voice. The couple on the table hops down and the fridge slams shut as the people in the kitchen clear out. Eric takes a deep breath and suddenly Jack is behind him, grinning in surprise.

“Wow, Bittle, I had no idea that kind of volume could come out of you.”

Eric has to ignore the comment for his own sanity. He places the boxes on the counter where the multiple bottles of alcohol used to be sitting. They were already all gone. Jack does the same, and together they open them all up and start unloading things onto plates. Eric expects Jack’s size to interrupt his workflow, but honestly Jack is extremely efficient at unpacking and organizing the assortment of treats. They use the biggest plates in the kitchen but it still takes a whole stack to organize everything in the boxes. Eric balances four plates on his hands and arms and starts to distribute them through the house, putting them on tables and shelves, and going back and forth between the kitchen and the rest of the first floor.

Finally, with Jack’s help, all of the goodies have been passed out and the boxes broken down and recycled. A few people have trickled back into the kitchen but are being extremely cautious, with Eric standing in front of his oven like a guard dog.

Lardo, Ransom, and Holster show up just as they finish putting out all the food so Eric has to abandon the kitchen again in order to help them bring all of the alcohol into the house. It’s mostly beer, and cheap shit too. A couple of kegs, more six-packs than Eric can count, and a single bottle of champagne.

There’s a lot of cheering as the crew comes back into the house with the drinks and they don’t even make it to the kitchen. They end up leaving most of it near the reading nook with some big buckets of ice. Lardo frantically grabs the champagne, takes it to the kitchen, and hides it in one of the cabinets. She then finds Shitty and calms him down with a beer and a hug.

Eric finds himself back in the kitchen, standing in front of the oven and glaring at anybody who gets too close. After about half an hour, a lot of the partiers seem to be pretty drunk already. He has to shoo multiple people off the kitchen table and has to physically wrestle one of the chairs out of someone’s hands. After about half an hour something dawns on him: he never had the chance to lock the door to his room.

He sprints up the stairs and down the hallway, bursting into his room. He almost cries when he finds a guy and a girl making out on his bed. “Get out, _get out dammit_!” They almost roll off the bed in surprise as Eric stands at the door, repeatedly and rapidly gesturing for them to leave. They do and he takes a second, breathing deeply and turning off the light. He closes the door and locks it from the inside. Worth jimmying the lock later rather than finding out more people have made out in his bed, or worse...

He shudders and runs back downstairs into the kitchen. The music is way too loud and he can feel the bass in his stomach, but he stands his ground in his kitchen and refuses to let anybody break anything. Suddenly, Jack is next to him, beer in hand, with a small smile on his face.

“The kitchen really is the most fun place at the party, eh?”

“Don’t chirp me right now, Jack, I’m extremely stressed.”

“Bittle, nobody’s gonna hurt anything in the kitchen. You can’t spend your whole night in here.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me!”

Jack chuckles and shakes his head.

“Hey, Jack, what was that bottle of champagne about?”

“Ah, another Smashfest tradition. A final toast among friends, or something like that. It’s the most sacred tradition of the week.”

“That would explain Lardo hiding the bottle behind the pots.”

They stand for a second, watching the party around them and the people dancing and grinding and drinking and living. This is what his college years should have looked like. He should have been out partying and dancing with boys and being young. Eric would be lying if he said he didn’t picture himself doing all of those things with Jack, too. He sneaks occasional glances at the taller boy, quick and casual, but full of so much yearning that he’d be mortified if Jack noticed.

“Hey, I forgot to tell you, I managed to grab one of those mini pies before they disappeared. You know everything you baked is pretty much gone already?”

“You’re lying to me!”

“Nope.”

“But that took me almost all day...”

Jack laughs and pats Eric on the shoulder, sending what feels like a flame into his bloodstream and right to his heart.

“The pie was good, but I still think it needs...something.”

Eric is still reeling from Jack’s touch, which was meant to be casual and friendly, but it makes Eric’s head swim.

“Well, do you have any suggestions? And I’m _not_ putting protein powder in the filling!” he adds pointedly.

Jack gives him a playful warning look. “So he chirps back. You know, you really should come out with the rest of us, and enjoy the party like a normal person!”

“This is coming from the guy who spent most of the other parties in his room!”

“Hey,” Jack says, a little seriously, “that was different. Kent was–”

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just messing with you, Jack.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. Well, I’m gonna go, um, make a request for the music. Be right back!”

Jack exits the kitchen, leaving Eric wondering what Jack’s music taste is even like. Maybe he likes classic rock, or he could just be a Top-40 kind of guy, or maybe he likes real condescending alternative-type stuff that would make Eric feel musically inferior. Then he remembers that Jack had never heard Crazy in Love until the night before, and that gives him a pretty good idea.

He’s back within a minute or so, grinning slightly. “I talked to Lardo and she said it should be the next song coming up!”

“What did you request?”

“You’ll see,” Jack says, not making eye contact with Eric, who frowns, a little confused but not asking any questions. He waits for the end of the bassy techno song that’s playing to see what was so important that Jack felt the need to request it. He feels the beat stop, and suddenly it’s replaced by one that’s all too familiar.

_Girls, we run this mother—yep!_

He turns to look at Jack, eyes wide and mouth open. Jack is grinning and he shrugs.

“I’m shocked! I mean, I know you read that book on feminism that Shitty suggested, but this song is some serious modern girl power.”

“Oh, I just told Lardo to play something by that girl you like.”

“ _Beyonce_ , her name is Beyonce. Lord...”

“Well, are you just gonna sit here in the kitchen, now?”

Eric narrows his eyes at Jack and shakes his head. “You know this is basically blackmail, right?”

“If it gets you to live a little, I think I can forgive myself.”

 _I never worry, life is a journey, I just wanna enjoy the ride_ _  
_ _What's the hurry, it's pretty early, it's okay we'll take our time_ _  
_ _How dare we sit quietly and watch the world pass us by_   
_The night is still young and so are we_

Eric finds himself in the middle of the dance floor–which is huge, thanks to the open floor plan of the house. Most of the guys aren’t secure enough in their masculinity to dance to this song, so the crowd consists of mostly girls plus Eric and Jack, who was _not_ about to force Eric out of the kitchen and not dance himself. At first, Eric is dancing mostly with Lardo, swaying his hips and running his hands through his hair, laughing as Lardo jokingly wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him back and forth to the beat. Then she gestures with her head to the spot behind Eric where Jack is now being swarmed by three girls who are obviously very drunk, and Eric is about to save him but _fuck,_ Jack can dance, and he can dance _well_.

Lardo raises her eyebrows as she continues to dance with Eric, bumping the side of her hip into his and eliciting another laugh from him. They’re two of the shortest people on the dance floor and it’s comical and so much fun.

Eric is focused on Jack now, though. He’s moving perfectly with the music, despite having never even heard of the song before, while expertly juggling the three girls who are all over him. Finally Lardo gives Eric a little shove and mouths _go_. He rolls his eyes but she gives him another push in the right direction and he grabs Jack’s arm and pulls him away from the girls.

Suddenly he’s dancing with Jack, and it’s surreal. Jack is much taller than him, and much more muscular, so his moves are different, but so damn sexy and Eric’s mouth is dry and his palms are sweaty and his whole body feels like a current is running through it because Jack Zimmermann is in front of him, smiling and dancing and being human and it’s almost too much for him to handle. He can tell his own dancing probably looks sloppy because his body isn’t even his anymore, and this moment can’t be real because it’s too good and now Eric wants to cry because the song is ending but he just wants to dance with Jack all night.

The guys who formed a ring around the dance floor are all cheering and clapping and the girls are regrouping with their friends or going back to their dates or whoever, but Lardo is grabbing Eric and Jack and pulling them toward the kitchen. She makes eye contact with Shitty, who nods and shoots her back a thumbs up.

When they get back into the kitchen, Lardo makes an attempt to grab the champagne bottle from the cabinet but can’t quite reach. Jack smiles and easily grabs it from behind the large pot that served as its hiding place.

“Lards,” Eric asks, “how did you even get it up there in the first place?”

“I honestly don’t know, it was all a blur. This champagne is fucking holy, Bits, I was gonna do everything in my power to protect it. I think I briefly grew three inches or something,” she jokes.

Then Shitty comes into the kitchen, followed by Ransom and Holster, then Chowder, Nursey, and Dex. Ransom grabs nine tall glasses from another cabinet and places them in a row on the counter, looking expectantly at Jack, who is still holding the bottle.

“Well would you look at that,” Shitty says, “Jack Zimmermann leading the best Smashfest tradition of all time. Who would have thought? Go on, lets pop this fucker open!”

Jack struggles with the bottle for a second then jumps as it opens. The cork makes a loud sound as it hits the ceiling then bounces downward and hits the top of Dex’s head, causing a yelp and a laugh. Jack carefully pours champagne into the glasses, and Lardo and Shitty hand them out. The group makes a circle and Shitty steps forward.

“Alright brah, here’s where shit is about to get _so_ fucking sappy; you all know the drill. This is our so-aptly-named friendship toast, our pact that no matter what happens, no matter where we go or how much we may change, that we’re always gonna fucking love and cherish and appreciate each other–”

“Hear, hear!” Holster interrupts.

“ _SHUT UP_. I’m not done, you fucking dickbag!” Shitty yells. Holster laughs and holds his glass up slightly. Shitty clears his throat. “Now where was I? Oh right, friendship and shit. I’m so happy to recognize that this year we have a new friend entering the circle, Bitty Bittle, the fucking cutest damn baker in the world, and probably the entire universe!”

Eric blushes and raises his glass in response.

“Guys...We made it through another year. Lots of shit has happened since Smashfest last year, triumphs, heartbreaks, tests of friendship, but here we are,” Shitty’s voice breaks and Lardo wraps an arm around his waist. “We’re still together, and that’s fucking incredible. So, here’s to another year of friendship, and a lifetime more, after that!”

Everybody cheers as they raise their glasses into the center of the circle and Eric blinks tears out of his eyes. For the first time ever, he actually has a group of friends who respect and accept him and help him through the bad days and stand with him on the good ones and that’s a feeling he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He makes eye contact with Jack across the circle, who raises an eyebrow and grins before taking a sip of his drink. Eric rolls his eyes, recognizing that Jack is essentially non-verbally chirping him for crying, and bites his bottom lip a little before taking a sip himself.

Eric spends the rest of the night out of the kitchen, dancing with Lardo and Shitty and Ransom and Holster and even Jack, who occasionally makes his way back onto the dance floor. He admits that he gets a little too drunk for his own good, but by some miracle he manages to avoid posting any stupid pictures on the internet. In fact, the only tweet he writes all night is just a single word.

 _Happy_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this may be my favorite chapter I've written so far. It turned out a lot different than my original plan but it all just kinda came to me and came together and I'm very happy with it. Enjoy guys :D
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj


	13. sunday morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Sunday Morning by Maroon 5](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2Cti12XBw4)

The final party lasts most of the night. At around one, the cops show up because one of the neighbors complains (“Not fucking okay, I gave everybody on the block fair fucking warning that Saturday night was gonna be intense,” Shitty complains,) so they have to turn down the music. At this point, a lot of people decide to head out; a lot of them take cabs and those who are sober enough walk to the nearby train station, which apparently goes right onto the Samwell campus.

Eric stops drinking at around two in the morning after he catches himself almost confessing his deepest feelings about Jack. _To Jack_. That wouldn’t have been a fun situation in the morning. Jack doesn’t drink much and it’s a little weird for Eric to let go completely and let somebody else be the mom friend for once, and with both him and Shitty completely intoxicated, apparently Jack is next in line.

Eric then loses track of time entirely and the night rushes by. The next thing he knows the sun is already starting to come up.

There are bodies everywhere. People passed out on couches, chairs, the floor, in the kitchen, _everywhere_. Eric had switched to exclusively drinking water after his run-in with Jack and now he’s thanking himself, even though he can still feel his head pounding and his body yelling at him. He takes it upon himself to start waking people up, sending them out the door as he half-heartedly begins to clean up the bottles littering the entire first floor. After about half an hour of this, Jack comes down the stairs. He had gone to bed at some point, or at least that’s what Eric assumed, because he’d disappeared without saying anything to anybody.

“Good morning, Jack.”

“Morning, Bittle. I’m gonna open up all of the windows and air out the house a little bit, it smells like...” he pauses and sniffs cautiously, “sweat. And alcohol. And it’s starting to spread to the upstairs too.”

Eric giggles, then winces at the wave of dull pain that shoots through his head. He continues to pick up bottles as Jack goes around and gets all the windows open. It’s raining now, and the morning is warm, so the evocative scent of rain on pavement starts to replace the funk pervading the house, and Eric takes a moment to sit in the reading nook and breathe deeply, appreciating the fresh air before going into the family room.

“Jack, look at this! Shitty is completely upside down,” Eric says, through a fit of laughter. It’s true. Shitty is out cold, his bottom half on the couch, with his head resting on the floor. Jack comes over and rolls his eyes as Eric carefully lifts him onto the couch and covers him with a blanket.

Lardo is in her room, which she somehow had managed to keep any partiers out of, despite it being right on the first floor. Ransom and Holster are curled up in a single seat and wow, that can’t be comfortable, but they’re still sound asleep somehow. Nursey and Dex must have followed Jack’s lead and gone upstairs, and Chowder is face down on the floor in front of the TV. That leaves Jack and Eric to clean up and get everything in order.

They start in the kitchen. The visual is completely nauseating to Eric; chairs turned over, fridge crooked, cabinets open, and someone must have thought it would be fun to get plates out and throw them around? The silverware drawer is upside down on the floor and one of the bulbs in the light above the table is gone. Not out, not broken, just...totally gone.

He takes a deep breath and Jack puts a hand on his shoulder.

“We can fix this. It’s not even as bad as it looks.”

Jack is right about that. The two of them somehow manage to straighten everything up in no time at all. It’s just like the night before when Jack helped him with all of the desserts; the pair maneuver perfectly and efficiently around each other, and they don’t say a word the entire time. They just get the damn job done.

Then they move to the rest of the first floor, picking up bottles and wiping up spills and rearranging furniture and in a couple hours, the rest of the house is still asleep but it’s almost like the party never happened. The smell of rain invades Eric’s senses as he sits with Jack in the kitchen, both drinking coffee and eating french toast, courtesy of Eric.

“So, I’m, uh...I’m thinking of getting back into hockey.”

Eric almost chokes on his french toast. He takes a second to recover, and then says, “Jack, that’s amazing! It’s been a couple of years, right?”

“Yeah. I really just need to start up again. I kinda feel like Kent has been holding me back this whole time, and he wasn’t helping my anxiety problem. But now, things feel different, and I think I could handle it... I need it. I miss it.”

“So you mean, like, pro hockey, right? The real deal? How does that work?”

Jack nods. “Well it’s all a little complicated, but luckily Parse put in a lot of good words for me while I was away, because he was so intent on getting me back in the game.” He laughs, a little bitterly. “I actually have something like an offer from a team nearby, to come and start training with them next season. I probably wouldn’t get any play time right away, and this isn’t even close to a done deal, but–”

“Jack this is amazing! I’m so happy for you! What team?”

“The Providence Falconers. There’s a woman named Georgia, who’s sent me a few emails, just to see if I’m interested.”

“Providence isn’t even that far from here. That would be so nice! Who else knows?”

“Well...so far, it’s just you. And my parents. Bittle, if you could keep this to yourself for a little while, just until I told everyone, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course! I guess it would be a lot of pressure to have everybody know before anything officially happens?”

Jack sighs, relieved, and smiles in appreciation. “Exactly. Thank you so much for understanding.”

“No, thank you for telling me! Why me, by the way? Why not Shitty? I thought you two were close.”

“We are! He’s my closest friend. Back in college I told him everything, but I just think that he would push me too hard, and I don’t need that right now, not right at the beginning. I knew that you would listen and respect that I just… I don’t know. I need space. I need to talk about things, but I also need space, and my friends don’t understand that. I’m sure you’ve noticed that about them.”

Eric nods. “They mean well, but you’re right. It can be overwhelming, sometimes.”

Jack laughs quietly. “Exactly. But you can’t help but love them, eh?”

“Yeah, it only took me about a week to feel like I’ve known everybody for years.”

They sit for a few minutes, eating quietly and appreciating the quiet sounds of silverware scratching against plates or mugs touching down on the table, and the rain outside provides a perfect soundtrack for a lazy Sunday morning.

“Oh, so speaking of news...” Eric eventually says.

“Hm?”

“I sorta got interviewed for the morning news yesterday.”

Jack puts his coffee down. “Really? Why didn’t you tell anybody? Did we miss it?”

Eric laughs. “No, it wasn’t live. I think they’re showing it tomorrow morning, but I don’t wanna make a big deal out of it.”

“Wow, so we’re _both_ hiding things from our friends.”

Eric shrugs. “Guilty as charged, I suppose. Your news is so much bigger though.”

“I don’t think so! What did they interview you for?”

“Oh you know, they just wanted to know what it was like to be the most attractive man in a 100-mile radius.”

Jack almost inhales his coffee, and Eric laughs and apologizes as he hands him a napkin.

“No, the news team were exposed to my mini pies, and apparently they were so good that they felt the need to put me on the news. Personally I thought it should be Holly, considering it’s her bakery and all, but she wasn’t having any of it.”

“Eric, that’s amazing!”

He shrugs. “I guess so.”

Jack frowns. “Aren’t you excited?”

“I really should be, I know. I don’t know why I’m not, I guess I just don’t feel like it’s a big deal?”

“Well it is, and you should be proud of yourself. You don’t give yourself enough credit Bittle.” Shit, he’d heard _that one_ before, and in reference to Jack, no less.

“Trust me, I’ve tasted your pies, and there’s a reason you’re gonna be on the news. Though the pies could _still_ use a little something,” Jack chirps as he winks at Eric. Eric rolls his eyes but smiles.

“Yeah...yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Hey, some advice?” Jack says carefully. “Stop guessing.”

“What?”

Jack opens his mouth for a second but pauses, then finally continues. “Just. _Know_. Even if it turns out that what you thought you knew is wrong, I’ve learned that it’s better to be sure of something. So tell yourself that your pies are newsworthy, and know that it’s true. If you just keep guessing at everything, nothing will ever seem certain in life, and when you’re dealing with too much uncertainty, happiness is hard to come by.”

Eric stares for a second, because, wow, that was really good advice, and for some reason he didn’t expect it from Jack. Then again, it sounds like Jack is giving him this advice from experience, because suddenly Jack is really serious and a little wistful.

“Thanks Jack, I...I appreciate it.”

The graveness on Jack’s face melts and is replaced with a soft smile. “Of course, Bittle. I guess I still kinda have that captain mentality, so pep talks sometimes come out of nowhere. But I mean it. Start being more confident in yourself. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Jack stands up and rinses off his dishes, sticking them in the dishwasher. “I’ll be back in a little bit, but you have my number now, so call me if you need anything. These guys can be difficult, hungover. Especially now that their beloved Smashfest has come to an end.”

“Are you seriously going for a run? Jack, it’s raining, and you got like four hours of sleep!”

He shrugs. “Good health doesn’t sleep Bittle,” and then he’s gone and Eric is stifling a laugh because what does that even mean?

 _Things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do_ _  
_ _Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you_ _  
_ _That may be all I need, in darkness he is all I see_   
_Come and rest your bones with me_

_Driving slow on Sunday morning, and I never wanna leave_

Eric spends the rest of his morning making extra french toast and then curling up in the reading nook, just breathing in the fresh, pungent smell of summer rain. The sky is dim and covered in clouds and the streets are all empty, draped in a fine layer of mist and silence. Eric’s friends wake up one by one, all of them passing him in the nook and making their way into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of coffee and food. Once everybody has eaten they trudge off to their rooms and Eric realizes that he hasn’t slept in a full 24 hours, so he cleans up in the kitchen and collapses into his bed, feeling so physically exhausted but emotionally relaxed that he’s asleep almost instantly.

Someone is shaking him awake gently and his eyes are fighting to stay closed but the persistent motion forces them open. He gasps when he sees Jack sitting on the edge of his bed, trying but failing to contain a smile.

“Morning, Bittle.”

He stretches and yawns. “Morning? What the hell do you mean? I already saw you this morning.”

Jack giggles and shakes his head. “Sunday is gone, it’s Monday.”

Eric sits up, eyes suddenly wide. “I slept through the entirety of Sunday? Like, 18 straight hours of sleep?”

“I’m impressed honestly, and that’s coming from the guy who was on a sleep marathon when you met him. Come on, get up and come downstairs.”

Eric groans. “Damn it, I have to go into work today...”

Jack smiles sympathetically and ruffles Eric’s hair. “I’m sure Holly would understand if you needed another day.”

Eric frowns internally at Jack’s strangely affectionate action. “No, I wouldn’t do that to her, I guess I’ll just suck it up. Thanks for getting me up, Jack, I might have slept through today too!”

“I guess it’s possible. Could you, uh, could you come downstairs with me for a second?”

Eric frowns. “Um. Yes? I–Jack, what’s going on?”

“You’ll see, let’s go!” Jack grabs Eric’s arm and pulls him out of bed and Eric yelps and pulls the blanket with him because _he isn’t wearing any pants holy fucking shit_. Jack doesn’t notice and keeps pulling him along, out the door and down the stairs. Eric’s eyes are wide and he’s laughing and stammering and asking Jack what’s happening but Jack isn’t responding, just smiling broadly and pulling Eric into the family room where everybody is sitting.

Shitty turns his head as they come in the room. “Jack, are you gonna tell us what the fuck is going on and why we’re up at asscrack o’clock in the goddamn morning?”

Eric turns to him, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. “I’d like to know the same thing actually, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack says nothing, just picks up the remote and turns on the TV and _oh._ Eric had completely forgotten. Everybody frowns and turns from Jack to the TV as they hear, “ _Hello, this is Sheila Fonta with Channel 7 News in the morning, here at Holly’s Bakery with young baking prodigy Eric Bittle!”_

Eric can feel his face getting red and hot as he sees his own face on TV and _this is so weird_. All of the attention is on him, but not on the physical him who’s actually standing in the room, and he squirms a little as Jack smirks at “young baking prodigy” and prepares himself for the round of chirps that’s about to follow. There’s little noise from his friends as they watch the short clip, occasionally murmuring something to each other. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Sheila closes out the segment and it switches to something else. Everybody is completely quiet for a second.

“Jack,” Eric practically whines, “I told you I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it!”

Then Shitty is on top of him, hug-tackling him, simultaneously laughing and yelling at Eric because he’s so proud and happy, “But why the fuck didn’t you tell anyone?”

Eric is blushing even more now as he attempts to keep his dignity intact with his blanket as he stands up.

Jack puts in a quick, “Well he told me,” and Lardo rolls her eyes at Jack as she hugs Eric, not as violently as Shitty had.

“I’m so fucking proud of you Bits. That’s gonna do amazing things for the bakery, you know, and you too!”

Ransom and Holster each hug him as well, and Dex, Nursey, and Chowder all offer their congratulations. Maybe Jack had been right, maybe it really was more impressive than Eric was giving himself credit for.

Jack is standing back and smiling, and Eric shakes his head at him but smiles. This boy organized a damn viewing party just for Eric being on the news because he wanted Eric’s friends to see his achievement. He starts to get a little teary as his friends surround him and they all start talking but he’s drowning it all out because Jack is still looking into his eyes and he looks so proud of Eric and a little bit proud of himself and it makes Eric’s heart hurt. Eventually, Eric has to put an end to the little celebration.

“Hey y’all, I just wanted to say, first of all, that Jack Zimmermann is the worst human ever for springing this on me,” he shoots a fake glare in Jack’s direction. Jack throws his hands up but smiles. “Second of all, I’m not wearing anything on my bottom half right now except for some very skimpy underwear, and I’d like to avoid a Kent Parson stripper moment, at least at this hour.”

Shitty loses his shit entirely and Lardo moves to stand in front of Eric defensively, and unless his eyes are playing tricks on him there’s some color in Jack’s cheeks that wasn’t there before. “Finally, I really do have to get to work, but thank you all so much for this. I didn’t plan to make a big deal out of it because honestly it didn’t feel like one.”

Shitty shakes his head and Eric feels bad because it isn’t the first time he’s hidden something from Shitty—although nothing stays hidden from him long. “Damn Bitty, back at it again with the white lies.”

Nursey groans. “Did you really just meme this moment?”

Shitty gasps loudly and Eric jumps. “Brah, that’s it! I finally figured out my game show! Congrats again, Bits, but I have work to do now. This show isn’t gonna plan itself!”

He kisses Eric on the cheek then runs up the stairs, leaving everybody behind a little confused. Lardo laughs and shakes her head. “He’s been trying to get a game show together for months but couldn’t think of a concept that hasn’t been done. Apparently Meme this Moment is coming soon. Good one, Nursey.”

Nursey shrugs. “As long as I get some of the profits, I can’t complain.”

Lardo rolls her eyes and hugs Eric again. “Sorry, kiddo, you go get ready for work now. And really, this is huge. You were on the fucking news, Bits, you should be proud of yourself.”

“I know. Thanks, Lards. And thanks, everybody, I really appreciate all of y’all getting up early and everything!”

He gets another quick round of congratulations before he shuffles up the stairs and briefly collapses onto his bed, breathing heavily, with tears still in his eyes. He still can’t even believe that Jack had essentially _forced_ him to see his self worth. He can’t even be mad about it, because he feels so fucking good that nothing else matters.

He quickly gets showered and dressed, and he’s rushing out of his room and down the stairs when he bumps into Jack. Everybody else has gone back to their rooms or to the kitchen, so they’re alone in the family room.

“Hey Bittle, I know I kinda threw you for a loop earlier and I’m sorry, but I was afraid that you were gonna miss out on an important moment.”

“Jack, I just...I don’t think anybody has ever gone out of their way like that just to make me feel good about myself. And I needed it, because lately I’ve been kinda having a hard time with that.” He feels his eyes start to sting a little bit and he attempts to clear the lump in his throat. “So just... Thanks. A lot. I mean it.”

And then, as if his day couldn’t possibly get any better, Jack pulls him into a hug. His arms are so strong and solid and Eric sighs as his head rests on Jack’s chest, hearing the beating of the older boy’s heart. He can faintly smell Jack’s body wash and their bodies fit so perfectly together, and then he’s crying again, so frustrated because he’s so fucking close to Jack but he feels more distant than ever because Jack is being such a good _friend_. He sniffles as Jack releases him, smiling down. Jack must think they’re happy tears.

“You deserve to be happy, Bittle. I know it can be hard to believe, and for a long time I didn’t believe it either about myself. But you’re allowed to let yourself be happy, and you’re allowed to be proud of yourself, and you’re allowed to brag to yourself to your friends.”

Eric nods, risking more tears if he attempts to say anything else.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. Have fun at work, Bittle.”

Eric nods again, swallowing hard. He isn’t able to make eye contact as he walks out the door, and he cries for at least a third of his walk to the bakery.

When he gets there, he sees a sign on the door that says, “Go home and turn on the news, we open at nine today!”

He looks at his phone. 8:50. He pushes the door open, chuckling at the note and smiling as Holly screams from the kitchen, “ _CAN’T Y’ALL READ, IT SAYS WE DON’T OPEN UNTIL_ – Oh, Eric! Hi, sugar, I didn’t realize it was you. You watched, right?!”

Eric nods. “The whole house did. Jack went and woke everybody up and forced them to.”

She smiles knowingly and chuckles. “I swear that boy is constantly surprising me.”

“I’m with you there. So, um, speaking of Jack...”

Her smile broadens as she sits on one of the stools in front of the counter and pats the one next to her. “I knew this was coming, sit on down. We’ve got ten minutes until we technically have to open.”

Eric sits. “What were you talking about yesterday?”

“Well, I asked you if he was the boy you’ve been so emotional about lately, which honestly makes sense, if you ask me. And then you confirmed that, and I said that I could tell just by the way you looked at him–”

“And then you said something about the way _he_ looks at _me_.”

“Ah, that’s right!”

Eric leans in a little and raises a hand expectantly. “ _Well?!_ ”

“Honey, I can’t explain it. But haven’t you noticed the way he looks at you, too?”

Eric blushes. “I try not to make eye contact too often. It makes me nervous.”

Holly laughs and rubs his shoulder. “Understandable, those blue eyes of his are beautiful, but startling. Why does he makes you so nervous?”

He shrugs. “Because he’s Jack Zimmermann, and I’m so afraid that he’s gonna find out that I have a crush on him. But why would he be looking at me weird too?”

She sighs. “You’re really not understanding. He looks at you the same way you look at him, honey, so why would him finding out about your crush be a bad thing? Especially if it’s mutual?”

He frowns at her. “It isn’t mutual, Holly, I’ve been through this conversation with Shitty, talking like this just gets my hopes up and–”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. How can you be so sure, especially after what I just told you? And what’s wrong with getting your hopes up a little?”

“I don’t know how I know, I just...” He stops, Jack’s words from earlier echoing in his mind. He’s doing it again, completely selling himself short and not even giving himself a shot at happiness.

Holly grabs his shoulder. “Eric Bittle, if you never even give it a chance then you’re just gonna be stuck in this crush forever. Crushes like this don’t just go away. You gotta do something about it.”

He sighs. “But what? I don’t think I could just tell him, I’d be so nervous... I’d definitely screw it up.”

“Hmm. Okay, here’s my advice. Don’t jump right into anything, just...” She pauses and purses her lips. “Just spend some time with him. You know, alone, just the two of you. If he seems into that, then you could potentially take things a step further and maybe ask him out on a date. I’m sure you know how awful first dates can be, so if that doesn’t go well don’t take it as a bad sign, just–”

“Actually, I...I’ve never been on a date before.”

She stops for a second. “You’re lying to me. You are sinning, and you’re lying right to my face. That just can’t be true.”

“Hey, just because I’m 22 doesn’t mean that there are certain things I should have done by now.”

“Honey this has nothing to do with your age, I just can’t believe that boys haven’t been all over you all these years. You’re damn adorable, you’re funny, you’re polite, and I’m fairly certain at this point that if your baking got any better, it could cure cancer.”

Eric laughs but she glares at him. “I’m not kidding around here! Eric, you’d be the perfect boyfriend, hell if I were your age and you ever considered swinging that way–”

“ _OKAY,_ I think that’s enough of that conversation!”

She laughs. “I was just messing with you, sugar. But really, think about it. Just try to spend a little more time with him. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah, I guess not...”

“Good. So, you keep me updated on anything that happens with that situation. For now though, I need you to go back and start on some pies. I have a feeling we may be getting a nice wave of business today.”

Despite the gloomy day, Holly’s prediction comes true and the bakery is more crowded than Eric has ever seen it. Holly is constantly rushing back and forth between the counter and the kitchen, telling Eric to hold back on the pies and switch to mini pies or vice versa as certain trends hit at different points of the day. One customer even requests that Eric make an attempt to turn the recipe into cupcakes, which he tries and actually does a pretty good job. He makes a cinnamon spice cake and mixes some bits of apple in, then cores them and fills them and lattices them with strips of pie crust then bakes them one final time. Holly thinks it might be another breakthrough.

The day completely flies by as Eric gets into his groove, one headphone in as he shakes his hips all around the kitchen and bakes with incredible speed. He doesn’t even have to try to work fast, it’s just his natural speed when baking. A lot of customers come in and leave orders in the morning to be picked up in the afternoon and he’s grateful for that because a lot of them include things besides apple pie. As much as he loves the recipes and how much the community likes it, he likes some variety in his baking.

Finally, all of the orders are fulfilled and customers have stopped coming into the store. The sun is already down and Eric is drained but he feels good after such a successful day of work, and proud that his interview would most likely be bringing in more and more business. Holly tells him as they’re cleaning and locking up that she saw so many new faces, and that she’s completely blown away, and this time when she thanks him, he accepts the thanks, no excuses, no trying to share the achievement.

He accepts that he’s enough and more.

That’s why he starts to formulate a plan on his walk home, a plan so daring and with so much potential to fail and blow up in his face that it makes his heart race and his palms sweat. He has his mind set, though. He’s taking Jack’s advice, he’s taking Holly’s advice, he’s taking Shitty’s and Lardo’s advice. He’s finally listening.

He quickly runs the plan by Shitty when he gets home, and receives Shitty’s full support, so the hardest part now is just keeping it quiet until he can pull everything together. Every time he thinks about it, he smiles and his pulse increases. Shitty and Lardo both volunteer to help with a few of the details, but within the next few days everything is set. Things at work are at an all time high, things with his friends are perfect and almost dream-like, and this plan will either change his life for the better or wreck everything entirely. Either way, there’s no turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've hit what's just about the halfway point of the fic! Exciting stuff! I just wanna say a quick thanks to everybody who's been reading and commenting and for all of the subscribers because it really just makes my heart so happy and I love writing about these cute nerds. This is the longest thing I've ever written and that's satisfying in and of itself but your feedback is even more satisfying so thank you for all of the kind comments and things of that nature <3  
> I hope everybody's enjoying the story so far and I'm sorry but I'm not sorry that there's a cliffhanger >:)
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5


	14. open up your folding chair next to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Folding Chair by Regina Spektor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCvgXmg0m1g)

“Hey y’all! So, today’s the day...and I’m nervous out of my mind, if I’m being completely honest. I’ve been over worst case scenarios over and over and I’m definitely ready to take this risk, especially because, to him, it probably won’t mean the same thing. Or something like that. I don’t know y’all, I’m all jumpy and fidgety and what if he’s busy today? It’s a surprise and he doesn’t know anything yet so what if it turns out he already has plans, or that he doesn’t wanna go? I think I’d have to move and start a new life in Antarctica or something, but it’s too late now. Shitty and Lardo have done too much to help me with this to back out, so as soon as I get this edited and posted I’m gonna go next door and get Jack up. It’s still pretty early, even by my standards, and that’s saying something. So… Wish me luck, and I’ll be back to talk about a new recipe in a few days! I know it’s been a lot of talk about Jack lately, and I apologize, he’s kinda taken over my brain...”

 

He knocks quietly on Jack’s door and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He doesn’t hear anything from inside so he carefully turns the knob and pushes the door open. Jack is sound asleep, his window cracked. The Saturday morning sunrise throws a muted red color across the older boy’s face and Eric can’t help but smile as he watches for a few seconds as Jack’s chest rises and falls in a slow and steady rhythm.

Finally, he approaches the bed and gently nudges Jack’s arm. Jack takes in a short, sharp breath but doesn’t wake up. Eric tries again, and this time Jack groans and opens his eyes just slightly.

“Bittle? Is everything okay? It’s so early,” he murmurs, smacking his lips slightly and running a hand through his messy hair.

“Everything’s fine Jack. I...I’m not exactly sure how to say this without it being weird, but uh, just get up and get dressed. I’ll explain when you’re coherent.”

Jack raises an eyebrow and chuckles quietly. “How vague of you.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “It’s a birthday surprise, and we have to drive to get there. That’s the only other information I’m giving you, Mr. Zimmermann!”

“Bittle, my birthday isn’t for another two weeks...”

He huffs. “Don’t you think I know that? But I couldn’t steal you away from the house on your _actual_ birthday, it would be a sin!”

Jack chuckles again and shoos Eric out of his room so he can get changed. Eric closes the door behind him, his palms a little sweaty and his heartbeat faster than normal. Well, there’s _that_ out of the way, at least. Now he just has to act like a normal person for the rest of the day and everything should turn out fine. He’s talked to Shitty a _lot_ about possible implications of just him and Jack alone for a whole day, but Shitty has assured him that Jack will totally think that Eric is just being a good, strictly platonic friend.

Finally, Jack emerges from his room and Eric has to catch his breath because he’s wearing that red shirt, the one he wore that day he came to the bakery so many weeks ago, the one that brought numerous dirty thoughts into his poor, innocent brain. He curses internally. This was going to be harder than he thought. He’s taking Holly’s advice though. He knows he needs to spend more time with Jack and this “birthday present” is the perfect cover. Of course he really does intend it as a gift for Jack, too, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have some ulterior motives.

“Alright, Bittle, this better be good. I’m gonna be missing my morning run.”

Eric rolls his eyes and starts down the stairs, Jack right behind him. “Would you rather go on your morning run and miss the day that I have planned?”

“No, I guess not,” Jack mumbles.

Eric almost laughs at how comically miffed Jack is about missing his daily exercise but manages to keep a straight face. Jack grabs the keys to Shitty’s car off the rack near the door and Eric crosses his arms.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Um. Driving?”

Eric shakes his head and grabs the keys out of Jack’s hand. “I don’t think so. You don’t have to lift a finger today, _I’ll_ be doing the driving, thank you very much!” He tries to keep his face serious but the corners of his lips twitch upward as he catches Jack’s eye. Jack is shaking his head but smiling as he follows Eric out of the house and into the car.

Jack doesn’t ask any questions during the ride, for which Eric is grateful. His heart is beating so fast he’s afraid that it might fly out of his mouth if he tries to speak. After the short five minute drive, Eric parks on the curb in front of their destination and smiles at Jack.

“We’re here!”

“Bittle, this is the bakery...”

“Correct! Let’s go, we don’t have all day,” Eric says as he hops out of the car, still not able to look Jack directly in the eye. He pulls the key out of his pocket and his shaking hands fumble with it for a second before he turns it in the lock and pushes the door open.

“My birthday surprise is a day at work with you?”

“No questions. Just follow!”

He’s feeling a little more relaxed now that they’re on his turf and the familiar smell of the bakery welcomes him. He strides into the kitchen and puts on his apron, then throws one to Jack, who frowns at it.

“Do I really have to–”

“Yes! My kitchen, my rules!”

“Technically, it’s Holly’s kitchen, though.”

Eric gives him a playful glare. “Not right now, it isn’t. She promised me that she would open a little late today so we have the kitchen all to ourselves!”

Jack sighs in defeat as he puts the apron on, struggling slightly with the ties behind him as Eric starts to gather ingredients and the necessary tools.

“So what exactly are we doing?”

Eric sighs as he sets a large bowl on the counter. “You have an awful lot of questions today!”

“To be fair, you haven’t really given me any answers.”

Eric looks at him for a second. “Fine. We’re making apple pie.”

“So?”

“So? _So?_ Jack Zimmermann, I’m about to let you in on my family’s most ancient and protected tradition, and you say ‘so’?” Eric tsks and Jack frowns.

“I didn’t realize it was that big a deal.”

Eric stops what he’s doing and looks at Jack. “Do you even know me? Of course it is! A big enough deal to be part of your birthday present, anyway!”

“Okay, okay, got it.”

“Good. Now just sit tight while I get everything ready.”

Eric finishes organizing his materials and supplies then turns to Jack. “So, ready to get started?”

Jack nods. “I have a suggestion though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I found this recipe a few days ago–”

“Wait, _you_ found a _recipe_?”

“I–yeah, I was trying to figure out how to improve the pie. You know how I thought it needed something? What about maple syrup?”

Eric breaks into a fit of laughter.

“What?! I didn’t make it up, it’s a real thing!” Jack says.

The blond wipes tears out of his eyes as he gasps for breath. “I don’t doubt it Jack, but I mean... how Canadian can you get?”

Jack rolls his eyes but his cheeks flush almost the same color as his shirt. “Say what you will, it sounds like it would be good to me. You just add it to the filling, and then there’s this topping, too!”

Eric stops laughing and just smiles at him endearingly. “Well, it’s _your_ birthday present after all, so it’s worth a shot. Do you have the recipe saved?”

“I do! I bookmarked it on my phone.” Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket and fiddles with it for a second before sighing. “Um. Do you know how to get to the bookmarks?”

Eric laughs. “Do you really not know?” The older boy shakes his head. “Fine, lemme help.”

Eric slides his hand under Jack’s, grabbing the phone. Just the simple touch is enough to bring Eric’s heart rate up again and he groans inwardly at how easy it is to get him going around Jack. He quickly locates Jack’s bookmarks and his heart drops when he sees that besides the recipe, the only other bookmark on Jack’s phone is titled, “Ten Signs Your Relationship is Toxic.”

Jack notices the change on Eric’s face. “Everything okay? Is it not there?”

Eric takes a deep breath. “No, it’s fine Jack. I found it.” He clicks the bookmark and quickly looks at the recipe, a little shocked at how similar it is to his own. His heart has stopped beating so fast but it aches as he thinks about the things Jack had to go through with Kent before he finally stood up to him. He tries to force those thoughts out as he grabs a few extra things, including authentic maple syrup and some nuts for the topping.

“Okay, now you’re gonna follow along okay? And tell me if I’m going too fast, because fast is my default speed.”

Jack nods and joins Eric at the counter.

“So, I’m gonna have you do the dirty work, just because I can! I may have lied earlier about you not lifting a finger...” Jack rolls his eyes and Eric giggles. “You’re gonna use this peeler and get all of the skin off those apples, then cut them up into little chunks. Not _too_ little, but make sure they’re bite sized. I’m gonna start getting the crust ready while you do that!”

It only takes a few quiet minutes for both of these tasks to be completed. Now they have a large bowl full of apple pieces and a pie crust chilling in the fridge. Eric takes notice—as he has many times before—of how easy it is to work alongside Jack, quickly and without a word.

“Now we’re gonna combine the rest of the ingredients for the filling and let that sit for a little while, then work on the topping. After that, all we have to do is bake it and wait!”

Jack nods and smiles. “This is fun, Bittle. I never knew baking was so easy.”

“Well you have a local baking prodigy by your side, so...”

Jack pushes him playfully and Eric attempts to push him back but finds that Jack is too strong to be shoved. He pouts as he tries even harder to make Jack lose his balance, then laughs as he gives up and shows Jack exactly how much of each ingredient needs to go into the filling. Ironically, Jack spills the syrup everywhere as he pours it, not expecting it to come out of the bottle so quickly. Finally, they have everything combined in the pie pan and Eric slips it into the oven.

“Now we wait! You sit down, I’ll clean up.”

“Are you sure? I can help!”

Eric points at the stool. “No, sit your behind down, Jack. This is your birthday present so you don’t have to do any cleaning. I swear, you’re somethin’ else.”

Jack rolls his eyes but does as Eric instructs. Eric hums quietly to himself as he wipes down the counter, rigorously washing off the various utensils and bowls and putting away the ingredients. He promised Holly he would leave the kitchen spotless, after all. Every so often he looks back at Jack, who’s looking at him every single time. The first time Eric catches him, he bites his bottom lip and blushes as he looks away quickly. The second time, he maintains the contact for a second, waiting for Jack to look away. He doesn’t. The third time, he speaks up.

“Jack Zimmermann, what the hell are you looking at?”

He shrugs. “You’re the most interesting thing in here.”

Holy shit, that’s a line if Eric ever heard one, but it was coming from Jack... so he probably just meant it truthfully. Right? Regardless, Eric attempts to stammer a response but can’t form any actual words. He eventually settles on a ‘hm’ that comes out with forced indifference. He takes a little extra time to wash the the last bowl so the redness can drain from his face. He doesn’t know if he can handle a whole day of Jack’s little remarks.

Finally, he finishes and sits down next to the older boy, drying his hands on his apron.

“How much longer until it’s done?”

“Patience, Mr. Zimmermann. You sound like a child!”

Jack makes a point of it to pout and cross his arms and Eric laughs at his dramatics.

“Should be just a few minutes now. Then we’ll have to wait for it to cool before we dig in.”

Jack frowns for real now. “I haven’t eaten anything else yet. We can’t just have pie for breakfast.”

“Why not?”

Jack gapes at him for a second. “Because, it’s _pie_. That’s not a healthy breakfast.”

“It’s your birthday, I think that’s an automatic cheat day.”

“But it isn’t even my real birthday!”

“Doesn’t matter, pretend it is!”

Jack opens his mouth to respond but doesn’t say anything.

“Plus we have to see if this addition to the recipe finally satisfies you, right?”

“Well, I guess...”

“That’s what I thought!”

The oven timer goes off and Eric lets out a little ‘oh!’ before slipping on his oven mitts and pulling the pie out of the oven.

“Wow, this smells really good. Jack, I think you may have found a way to make the famous Bittle apple pie even better!”

He sets the pie down and looks back at Jack, who’s smiling again. Eric smiles back and doesn’t say anything this time, even though it would be so easy to chirp Jack for the strangely sappy look on his face. After a few more minutes, Eric actually gets impatient himself and cuts into the pie, scooping out two large slices and delivering them to the counter.

“It’s still hot, so just give it a minute.”

Jack picks up his fork and slices into the pie, blowing on it for a few seconds before popping it into his mouth. His face doesn’t change as he carefully chews and swallows, then, “Oh. Wow, yeah, this is it.”

Eric beams as he takes a bite of his own slice, accidentally letting out a small moan as the taste hits his mouth. It’s slightly sweeter than Eric’s typical apple pie, but the nuts on the top provide a salty balance to that, as well as a crunch that pulls everything together. Jack gives him a weird look and Eric blushes and laughs as he swallows his pie.

“Sorry, but you’re right. It’s amazing! I guess I shouldn’t have made fun of you for suggesting the syrup.”

“Yeah, I guess you shouldn’t have, eh?” Jack nudges him playfully as he takes another bite, this time letting out his own overdramatic moan. Eric rolls his eyes but he has to take a second to steady his breathing after hearing Jack make that noise.

“That’s quite enough out of you, mister. I could take you home right now and forget about the rest of the day.”

“Wait, there’s more?”

Eric frowns. “Of course there is, you didn’t think this was it did you? We still have two stops!”

“Eric, you really didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Well of course I didn’t _have_ to, but I did. So you’re just gonna have to live with it!”

Jack blinks at him, a little dazed, then takes another bite of pie. Eric smiles and they sit quietly until both of them finish. Eric takes care of the dishes.

“Alright, I’m just gonna leave this here for Holly to try. She should actually be here in a few minutes, but we’re gonna get going. Places to be and all that! Don’t forget to take your apron off.”

“I don’t know, it kinda grew on me. Couldn’t I leave it on?” He’s smiling and Eric lightly smacks his shoulder as he helps Jack untie it and hang it back up.

“You’re full of chirps today, aren't you?”

Jack shrugs. “I think I’m chirping you a perfectly normal amount.”

Eric agrees, then smiles as he realizes that from Jack, chirping and flirting practically feel like the same thing. Even if Jack doesn't really mean it as such. In fact, Eric is secretly craving more.

“Okay, let’s get in the car and head to destination two!”

This drive is a little bit longer, about 20 minutes. Eric fiddles with the radio the whole time, finally settling on some kind of strange electronic dance music. Jack frowns at this decision.

“This is what you’re going with?” he asks.

“There wasn’t anything better on!”

“I think you passed a country station.”

Eric scoffs. “You can’t be serious. I may be from the South, but I can’t stand country music. It’s all about beer and girls and partying–”

“All things you love!” Jack jokes. Eric rolls his eyes and swats at Jack’s hand as the older boy tries to adjust the radio.

“Ah ah ah, the one thing I refuse to let you do is change the station. I’m the driver, so you just have to sit there and deal with my music.”

Jack laughs quietly but makes no other attempts to change the station. Finally, Eric pulls into a little parking area and rolls down his window, greeted by the smell of salt in the air and a view of the water beyond the sand.

“Bittle, are we at the beach?”

Eric turns to him and smiles, eyes wide with excitement, and nods.

“But I don’t have anything to swim in, or sunscreen, or–”

“Don’t you worry about that, I have everything all planned! Open the trunk.”

Jack cocks an eyebrow as he opens the door, taking a second to appreciate the salt hanging in the air. Eric pops the trunk and opens one of the bags, revealing two pairs of swim trunks, sunblock, towels, a beach umbrella, and some folding chairs. It’s a pretty big bag, but Eric can’t imagine how Shitty managed to fit everything inside. Sitting at the top is a fancy-looking camera that Eric had never seen. Jack gasps and picks it up.

“You even packed my camera?”

Fucking Shitty, making Eric look even better than he already was. “Yep! I told you, everything is accounted for. Now let’s find a bathroom or something so we can get changed.”

“What about that other bag?”

“What other bag?”

Jack points to the second bag, a little further inside the trunk. Eric winces because he wasn’t supposed to see that yet.

“There is no other bag, Jack,” Eric says, making his voice as mysterious as he can. “I think the heat is already getting to you. Now, let’s go!”

Eric grabs the beach bag and almost falls over due to its weight. Jack chuckles and grabs it from him, slinging it over his shoulder with ease as Eric huffs.

“I would have been fine.”

“A hernia is no fun at the beach, Bittle!”

Jack starts off towards a small building at the edge of the sand and Eric follows, pulling out his phone and taking a quick picture of the beach and the ocean in the distance, which he promptly posts to Twitter with the caption “beach day!!!”

They get changed one at a time so they don’t run the risk of anybody stealing their things, then start down the sand, Eric shielding his eyes from the sun. His flip flops are already full of sand and he can feel sweat starting to drip down the back of his neck in the July heat.

“So Bittle, why the beach?”

Eric looks up from his phone. “Well, I haven’t been all summer. I figured you probably haven’t either, considering you only leave the house to run. Plus the beach is relaxing and fun!”

“And crowded,” Jack grumbles. He’s right; because it was such a perfect day for the beach the shoreline was already covered in beachgoers. Eric waves him off.

“Where’s the fun if the beach is completely deserted?”

“Yeah, I guess...”

They finally makes it close to the water and find a spot to put down all of their stuff. Eric giggles as Jack struggles with the umbrella but refuses all offers for help, then finally manages to get it standing in the sand. Eric throws the towels out and immediately plops down on his, placing his phone carefully in the pocket of the large duffel bag. Jack sets up the chairs and sits down in one, sliding on a pair of sunglasses and removing his shirt as he begins to apply sunscreen. Eric tries not to stare but lord, is it hard. Jack’s hands traveling all around his body, over those damn hockey player muscles, rubbing the white liquid into his skin. It’s enough to make Eric’s mouth go dry, but that could also be because of the sun beating down on him.

Either way, Eric feels a little insecure as he removes his own shirt and quickly applies sunblock to his own body, asking Jack sheepishly if he can help with his back. How the hell had Jack done his own back? His arms were long, that was true, but what if he missed a spot? Eric decides not to push his luck by asking to do Jack’s back too, and instead focuses on not passing out as Jack’s hands slide up and down his own body, a lot more gently than Eric would have expected.

He gives Jack a shy “thanks” before sitting in the chair next to him, positioning himself so the umbrella blocks the sun out of his eyes. He closes them and takes in the entire beach experience: the smell of the water, the low hum of people around chatting, the sound of the waves hitting the shore, the light breeze ruffling his hair. He sticks his feet under the sand so their tops don’t get burnt and wipes his forehead as his eyelashes catch a drop of sweat. Even sitting in the shade, it’s a hot day, so Eric is thankful for the breeze and the occasional cloud that blocks the sun. After a few minutes, Jack’s voice comes from his left and startles him.

“Bittle, I’m gonna go down to the water for a bit.” He stands up, ducking under the umbrella.

“Okay! I think I’m just gonna sit here a little longer, but maybe I’ll join you later.”

“Oh. Alright, then.”

Why did he sound disappointed? They had the entire day to enjoy!

Eric watches intently as Jack trudges through the sand, the wind blowing his hair and the sun gleaming on his skin. Does he stare at his ass a little bit too? Yes, and he promptly chastises himself for it (even as he briefly looks again).

Jack doesn’t even get into the water before a toddler runs into his leg and falls backwards in the sand. Eric gasps quietly as he sees it happen, and then Jack practically changes before his eyes. He sees Jack’s eyes change to something much lighter and gentler and Eric smiles as Jack picks the kid up and stands him back on his feet. He then kneels down and brushes the sand out of his hair, asking if he’s okay (or so Eric assumes based on reading his lips).

Suddenly Eric is thinking about Jack with kids, Jack taking care of kids and being so good with them. Jack, this big, burly hockey player, being so careful and caring. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed how gentle Jack is, but seeing him with this child on the beach is like a whole new level. Then Eric does something so dumb and pictures Jack with _his_ children, playing with them in the yard and lifting them up over his head and laughing, the sides of his eyes crinkling with joy.

Eric takes a deep breath and actually physically pinches himself.

“Stop it Eric,” he says to himself out loud, “this is a friendship. Today is completely platonic, and it’s for Jack’s birthday, and it isn’t a date. Jack doesn’t think of it as a date, so you shouldn't either.” He sighs and closes his eyes again as Jack ruffles the kid’s hair one last time and sends him on his way.

_Come and open up your folding chair next to me_

_My feet are buried in the sand and there's a breeze_

_There's a shadow, you can't see my eyes,_ _  
_ _And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies_ _  
_ _Let's get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy,_  
_I'll safety pin his clothes all cool and you'll graffiti up his toys_

_I've got a perfect body, but sometimes I forget_

_I've got a perfect body and my eyelashes catch my sweat, yes they do_

After a few minutes, he hears the gentle grittiness of sand under feet as Jack returns, dripping wet. His hair is clinging to his head and his shorts are clinging to his body and Eric swallows hard as Jack smiles and asks, “Toss me that towel, eh?”

Eric snaps out of his daze and grabs the towel from on the ground next to him, carefully shaking out the sand and handing it to Jack. The older boy quickly dries his hair then wraps it around his body and sits down next to Eric.

“Water’s cold, but the waves are nice.”

Eric hums in response but still says nothing. He pulls a water bottle out of the duffel bag, a little warm from sitting in the sun, and hands it to Jack. He grabs one for himself to fix the dryness that’s set into his mouth and drains more than half in just a few gulps.

“Thirsty?” Jack asks.

 _Honey, you have no idea_ , Eric wants to respond. Instead he just smiles and nods. He then pulls out the sandwiches that he made the previous night and a couple bags of chips and they enjoy a nice light lunch.

The two boys sit in silence again for a long while, absorbing the sounds and the smells and the sights. Finally, Jack says, “The sky always looks bluer at the beach.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Maybe it’s just because of the water below it or something, but I always feel like the sky at the beach is so pretty. Especially at sunset.”

Sunset, huh? Eric pulls out his phone and looks at the time. It was already late afternoon somehow. Time always went faster at the beach, Eric thought.

“Hey Bittle, let me get a picture of you?”

Eric almost inhales a sip of water. “I’m sorry?”

Jack holds his camera up. “It’s such a nice day, and we should have a picture to show everybody. You know, make them jealous.”

“But why can’t I take a picture of you?”

“My birthday, my rules, remember? And I’m the one with the fancy camera.”

Shit, he had a point.

“Plus, you would look good against the blue background. With your light hair and freckles and everything.”

Despite how weird that statement is, Eric recognizes that from Jack, it’s a compliment. Besides that, it was the first moment that Eric realizes that wow, Jack consciously notices things about his appearance.

“Alright, fine!” He stands and starts to put his shirt on but Jack stops him. “What are you doing? We’re at the beach, you don’t need a shirt.”

“I know, I just, uh...” He purses his lips and looks away. It was bad enough that he was embarrassed of his body, but having to admit it was even more humiliating. When he looks back at Jack, the older boy is smiling just slightly, empathy plastered on his face.

“Bittle, you look fine. If you really want to wear your shirt, go ahead. But you don’t need it.” And suddenly Eric doesn't want it anymore.

He sighs. “Where should I stand?”

Jack points vaguely in the direction of the waves. “Don’t go too far, because then they won’t be able to tell it’s you! They might think it’s some random child I met,” Jack teases.

Eric rolls his eyes as he walks out a short distance, the baked sand caressing the bottoms of his feet. He turns around and Jack is standing, the camera up to his eye. He isn’t really sure how to pose, so he just stands there and smiles in Jack’s direction. He hears a faint click and Jack gives him a thumbs up and sits back down.

Eric chuckles softly as he turns toward the ocean, watching a boat in the distance drift lazily on the horizon. Some fish jump out of the water off to the right and then he sees dorsal fins poking up out of the water. For a second he thinks “shark”, but then realizes that it’s a small pod of dolphins having some lunch. He smiles as he watches the fins bob in and out of the water, their smooth wet surfaces catching the sunlight and sparkling.

He practically runs back to their spot in the shade where Jack is sitting amused, his eyebrow raised.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, there are some dolphins out there! They’re so pretty Jack, you should get a picture of them!”

Jack chuckles but grabs his camera as he follows Eric closer to the water. They wait for a second until Eric sees the fins again.

“See! Over there!”

Jack raises his camera and when the fins come up once more Eric hears the click. Jack looks at the picture, then shows it to Eric.

Jack had taken it at the perfect time. A few fins are clearly visible, the sun is sparkling on the water, and even the boat in the distance made its way into the picture.

“Hey Jack, if hockey doesn’t work out, I think photography may be your go-to.”

Jack bumps him playfully as they turn and walk back to their umbrella. “Yeah, maybe.” He sits down and carefully puts his camera in the duffel bag.

“Bittle, didn’t you say there was a third stop? It’s getting a little late.”

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time. I wouldn’t make you leave before you got to see your sunset!”

Jack’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles appreciatively. Eric smiles back and returns to his seat, closing his eyes again. “Hey, Jack? I think I’m gonna take a little nap, but don’t let me miss it.”

He hears a short laugh, then, “Alright, Bittle.”

 

Eric awakens to the sound of the waves and a hand on his shoulder. He blinks a few times then stretches his neck and meets Jack’s eyes, then gasps as he looks out over the water. The sun is staring to descend behind them, throwing a deep red color out over the water to replace the splendid blue that Jack had pointed out earlier. Between them were amazing shades of pink and purple and orange, and Jack smiles down at Eric before grabbing his camera and trekking down to the edge of the water. The beach is almost completely empty at this point; it almost feels completely private.

Eric joins him, shivering slightly as the cold water rushes over his feet and ankles. Jack doesn’t seem to mind as he lines up the perfect shot, then lowers his camera and just stares. The setting sun makes the water glimmer vibrantly in front of them and the foam of the waves seems to catch the colors of the sky and bring it right to their feet.

Eric looks up at Jack, and he doesn’t even care that Jack isn’t paying an ounce of attention to him. Just to see the look on Jack’s face as he watches the sun setting over the water is enough for Eric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Zimbits beach day makes me incredibly happy to think about, as does Jack with children, so of course I had to combine them. I took my sweet time with this chapter, it's another one that I've been planning since the beginning. Oh also, I based the pie on [this recipe](http://ittybittybakes.tumblr.com/post/140662535516/bittys-love-pie) that I found on tumblr so go check that out too!!  
> Oh also, sorry that the formatting is a little weird sometimes?? Idk when I copy/paste every chapter sometimes some of the breaks don't come through but hopefully it doesn't make it too annoying to read :)  
> FINALLY, I'm very proud of all of my color imagery that's been a little sparse so far but really starts to come through in this chapter so be sure to be on the lookout for that as well :D
> 
> (p.s. 150 subscribers???? y'all are too good to me omg)
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor


	15. why don't you figure my heart out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Heart Out by The 1975](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9xA1Lvd37E)

“Bittle, is this really necessary?”

Eric is fidgeting nervously in his seat, his knuckles white from maintaining a tight grip on the steering wheel.

“Yes, it absolutely is. I can’t have the surprise be spoiled, and this was the only solution I could think of.”

Jack is sitting in the passenger’s seat, blindfolded.

“Don’t you think it’s a little...”

“A little what?”

“I don’t know. Kinky?”

Eric almost crashes the fucking car. Never did he ever expect to hear the word kinky coming out of Jack’s mouth.

“ _It’s a goddamn birthday surprise, Jack Zimmermann. Now shut your mouth and appreciate it.”_

Eric is laughing but at the same time he can practically feel his anxiety physically manifesting in the quiet air. As recompense for blindfolding his friend, Eric allowed Jack to turn on a country music station as they left the beach. Half an hour later, he’s losing his mind a little bit, even if the music does remind him of home.

Driving at night during the summer is one of Eric’s favorite things. The windows are rolled down slightly so the breeze whips through their hair as he maneuvers on the highway, the road illuminated by countless pairs of headlights, each heading to its own destination. Eric thinks about that sometimes—how there are billions of people out there living completely different lives whose paths he would never cross, and how insignificant humans really are in the grand scheme of things.

He stops himself because whoa, you’re getting a little too existential there, Bittle. Instead, he steals a quick glance at Jack, who seems more or less comfortable if not a little awkward. His face is showing the smallest trace of tension as the shadows on his features shift from the constant passing of headlights. Eric smiles and turns the radio up a bit as he rolls the windows down further.

When Eric finally pulls into the parking lot and takes a deep breath, turning off the car. Jack starts to take off his blindfold, but Eric grabs his hand and pulls it away.

“Not yet! You’ll ruin the big moment!”

“Bittle, I–”

“Jack. It’s like you’re _trying_ to make my life harder than it already is.”

Jack smiles, and Eric can guess exactly how his eyes must look behind that blindfold. “Me? I’d never dream of it.”

Eric rolls his eyes and gets out of the car, grabbing the other bag from the trunk which luckily, is much lighter than the beach bag. He then opens Jack’s door for him and helps him out. He shoulders the bag and stands slightly behind Jack, one hand on the small of Jack’s broad back and the other on his muscular upper arm, guiding him carefully to the door. He goes to pull it open but finds that it’s locked. Damn it. Shitty said that they were supposed to leave it open. Eric groans and pulls out his phone.

“Bittle? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just gimme a second,” Eric mutters as he pulls up Shitty’s contact and hits the call button. He raises the phone to his ear and it only rings once before Shitty quickly picks up.

“Hey Bits! Everything good there? You need us to come rescue you or something?” Shitty asks immediately, as if expecting the call.

“No, everything’s great, it’s just...The door is locked.”

Shitty chuckles. “I can assure you that it’s not. Did you try jiggling the handle?”

“Jiggling the handle?”

“Yeah, if you kinda mess around with it a little, it should open just fine. That’s what we always had to do anyway.”

Eric sighs then jumps as he hears the door clang open behind him. Shitty’s voice comes through the phone, “Yeah, like that! Okay, you good now?”

Eric is a little thrown as he turns around to find that Jack has managed to open the door, even while blindfolded, but he responds, “Yeah, good now. We’ll see you later, thanks Shitty!”

He hangs up the phone and turns around, looking at Jack suspiciously. “How the hell did you do that?”

Jack shrugs. “I heard you say to jiggle it, so I did.”

Eric narrows his eyes, even though Jack can’t see it, but returns his hands to their positions on his back and arm. He guides Jack through the door and into the building, mentally conjuring up the map that Shitty drew for him the night before to help him navigate. He starts to notice that after a few moments, Jack seems to be walking in the right direction of his own accord. He sighs and stops walking.

Jack stops after a few steps. “What? Why did we stop?”

“You already know where we are, don’t you?”

Jack smiles apologetically as he lifts the blindfold off. “Bittle, Faber was practically my second home for all of college. I’d know that old door if I was, well, blindfolded,” he says, tossing the blindfold back to Eric.

“Now the surprise is ruined,” Eric grumbles as he stuffs the blindfold into the bag.

“No! I’m still surprised! I didn’t think you knew about this place.”

“I didn’t,” Eric admits, “but Shitty and Lardo helped me out. This is okay right? I know you probably haven’t skated for a while, and I wanted to ask but that would have ruined the surprise so I was a little torn and I’ve actually been kinda stressed about it all day and–”

Jack steps forward and wraps his arms around Eric’s shoulders, pulling him in close. Eric’s breath catches in his throat and he freezes for a second before his arms return the hug around Jack’s waist. His cheek is pressed against the red material of Jack’s shirt and he can hear the rhythmic _thump_ of Jack’s heart. He’s glad the roles aren’t reversed, because his own heart is working overtime.

“Eric, it’s perfect.”

They separate and Eric licks his lips, staring up into Jack’s eyes. The hallway they’re in is mostly dark but he can still see the startling blue of the older boy’s eyes. He swallows hard and nods, not even sure of what to say. Luckily, Jack turns around and continues on their path, so all Eric has to do is follow.

Finally, they come to the ice. A few overhead lights have been left on, just as Eric requested, but the stands are pitch black and the atmosphere is a little eerie. Jack, however, seems to feel right at home. He walks up to the boards separating the stands from the ice and presses his hands against them. Eric shivers in the cold air and sits down behind Jack, opening the bag and pulling out two pairs of skates.

Jack turns around at the sound of the skates hitting the metal bleachers and smiles. He sits down next to Eric and takes off his shoes, putting on the skates. Eric does the same.

“Have a lot of skating experience Bittle?”

Eric blinks at him, realizing that he’s never told Jack much about his past.

“Yeah, I used to be a figure skater actually.”

Jack stops what he’s doing and looks into Eric’s eyes. “Oh. Wow. I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t talk about it much. It used to be such a big part of my life, but I had to give it up in college. I guess everything worked out in the end, but I do miss it sometimes.”

Jack smiles and nods. “You’ll have to show me a few things, then!”

Eric chuckles. “We’ll see. I’m definitely rusty, at best.”

“I’m sure you’re fine!” Jack gets up and makes his way onto the ice. It’s almost a little comical to see; Jack in his jeans and that red shirt, no hockey gear on, just skating circles around the ice. Still, it’s the most graceful and natural looking Eric has ever seen him; he seems to completely come alive on the ice. Despite how hot his face feels, Eric shivers again. He pulls on his favorite blue hoodie that he was smart enough to pack and joins Jack on the ice, taking a few minutes to get into a good rhythm. Skating is like riding a bike to him, and soon enough he’s speeding around the ice, making sharp turns and zipping past Jack.

Eric is damn fast on the ice, and he isn’t _trying_ to show off, but when he eventually slows down and sidles up next to Jack, the older boy has a little bit of awe in his eyes.

“That was crazy,” Jack laughs.

Eric shrugs. “I guess. I could probably go faster if I wasn’t so out of practice.”

“Well, now you’re just bragging!”

“I wasn’t trying to brag!” Jack swerves as Eric casually tries to bump him with his hip, then almost falls when their bodies don’t connect. Eric’s balance is thrown. Jack laughs and turns around, skating backwards and facing Eric. It was reminiscent of that morning not too long ago when Jack had jogged backwards ahead of the smaller boy, occasionally glancing behind him to stay upright.

It is so frustrating to see Jack like this, suddenly so happy and carefree and _real_. Eric always feels like Jack is ahead of him, looking back. Jack always seems so sure of his words, his actions, his feelings, and Eric is always left behind, off balance and struggling to even figure out what emotions he’s feeling.

“You know Bittle, we could have used someone like you on the team. That kind of speed is hard to match, and I can’t remember anybody in the league who would have been able to contest.”

“Yeah, maybe in another life I would have ended up playing hockey at Samwell.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s not anything too far out there. I mean, you came from Georgia to Boston, right? That’s so close. Plus, Samwell is one of the most LGBT friendly campuses in the country. They say 1 in 4 students is part of the community, and that’s not even including allies.”

Eric frowns. It was weird to be talking about his sexuality with Jack, but not in a bad way. He hadn’t ever really _come out_ to him necessarily, but they had talked about boys so it wasn’t a surprise to Eric when Jack brings up the subject.

“That does sound nice. I would’ve had a hard time explaining it to my parents though, if I used that as a selling point.”

Jack slows down until Eric catches up to him, then does a little spin and uses Eric’s shoulder to stable himself.

“Did they not know?”

Eric sighs. “They still don’t.”

“Oh...Do you plan on telling them anytime soon?” Jack asks, concerned.

“I’m not sure. I think my mama might be fine with it, but my father...I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t think _he’s_ ready. I mean, it can’t be a big surprise. The Beyonce obsession, the figure skating, you know? But I don’t think he’s ready to come to terms with it.”

They continue to skate around the outside of the rink, slowly and casually.

“What if you start dating someone? Don’t you think you’d have to tell them then?”

Eric scoffs. “I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Oh.” There it is again. That touch of disappointment in Jack’s voice that Eric sometimes notices. What the hell did it mean?

_It's just you and I tonight, why don't you figure my heart out?_

_You got something to say?_

_Why don't you speak it out loud, instead of living in your head?_

_It's always the same, why don't you take your heart out?_

_Instead of living in your head_

“What about you, though, I think I remember you said your parents are supportive?”

Jack nods. “They always have been. I think they worried about how it might affect my career for a while, but they accepted it themselves right away. I take that for granted sometimes.” There’s a little bit of guilt in his voice that makes Eric’s head spin.

“Well, you just get used to it eventually. It becomes normal. Nothing to feel sorry about!”

“You’re right, but I can’t help but feel bad. I mean, I can still remember what it was like to be hiding. I wasn’t sure how my parents would react at first, so I was in the closet for a while. It’s terrible. And you’ve been hiding for so long, I just...”

“Jack, it’s okay, it really is. I’m fine with the way things are right now, and I can’t see any reason to tell them and rock the boat. Honestly, I think I’d be okay if they never found out.”

Jack purses his lips and looks down at Eric sympathetically. “That’s no way to live though. Afraid of your parents? Not able to be yourself? It’s not healthy, Eric.”

“ _I’m fine_ ,” he repeats, tears springing to his eyes. He fiddles with the overlong sleeves on his blue hoodie, refusing to meet Jack’s eyes.

“Alright,” Jack says quietly, “I’m sorry. I just want you to be happy.”

 _Fuck_.

Eric skates ahead a little, quickly wiping the tears out of his eyes. He changes the subject. “So, you wanted to see some figure skating, right?”

Jack smiles and nods. “Show me what you got!”

Eric starts to pick up speed, looking back at Jack, who’s stopped himself against the boards and is watching intently. He smirks a little because he has Jack’s full attention, and that feels so right for some reason. Finally, he approaches the center of the ice and launches himself into the air, going for a safe single spin in the air and landing on one skate, his other leg extended gracefully. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that a lot of his flexibility remains.

Jack claps quietly as Eric makes his way back to the spot where Jack is standing.

“Is that it?” Jack asks playfully. “I was expecting a whole show. It _is_ my birthday after all...”

Eric rolls his eyes but goes again, this time allowing his body to glide along the ice after he lands the jump. He does a few more, mostly singles and then a double that leaves him slightly dizzy, but now he’s warm and his blood is pumping and he’s feeling daring.

“One more!” Jack calls.

Eric gains some momentum and launches himself into the air, going for three spins but not committing enough. He lands awkwardly, his ankle twisting a little bit, and he falls onto his elbows. Luckily the soft sleeves of his hoodie make the impact minimally painful, but the thud that seems to echo through the rink is enough to make him wince.

“ _Bitty!_ ” Eric’s heart stops as Jack skates over to him. With Jack, it’s always _Bittle_ , or sometimes _Eric_. Jack has never called him Bitty before, and now all he wants is to hear Jack say it over and over again. It’s so strange that the nickname that Eric so adamantly rejected at first is something that brings tears to his eyes and steals all of the air from his lungs. It is like being punched in the stomach, it’s like hitting the ice all over again. It’s like he’s hearing things clearly for the first time.

He sniffles as Jack grabs his arm and helps him up, breathing “Bitty,” again and lord, he has no idea what he’s doing to Eric. He almost slips again but Jack steadies him, and suddenly they’re so close, and Jack’s hands are on his shoulders and Eric hands are on Jack’s sides, and they’re looking into each other’s eyes, and if Eric stretched up just a little bit he could so easily kiss Jack, finally taste his lips again after that game of spin the bottle when his fate was sealed and his life seemingly ruined.

Jack opens his mouth to say something and Eric’s mind goes completely blank, waiting and desperately hoping for some out-of-the-blue confession of love, but Jack closes his mouth again and Eric returns to reality. His heart shatters and he can feel his ears go red as a tear spills from his eye, hitting the ice below him.

“ _Crisse_ , are you okay? Did you hit the ground that hard?”

Another tear falls, then another, and he’s crying now and he doesn’t really understand why until Jack is hugging him again. He wants to push him away, he wants to yell at him and make him leave, because he’s so mad at himself for doing this and falling for this boy and he so desperately wants to tell him, he wants this hug to be different than it is. Instead he just cries into that damn red shirt that’s too small for Jack, leaving tearstained spots all down Jack’s front and cursing himself for being so damn weak.

“Bitty, you have to tell me what’s going on. Did I say something to upset you? I’m sorry that I was pushing you earlier, I just–”

“Want me to be happy, I know. I get it. But I am happy, so you can stop worrying about me,” Eric mutters through his tears.

Jack huffs a little indignantly and Eric understands because not only is he being rude, but he’s still crying into Jack’s shirt in the middle of an empty hockey rink, which is not the type of thing that happy people do.

Eric pushes away from Jack and wipes his eyes on his sleeves. Jack is looking at him and it’s a look that Eric hasn’t ever seen before, something between endearment and pity and wonder, and just the sight of Jack’s face brings fresh tears to Eric’s eyes and he cries out in frustration as he skates off the ice.

He rips the skates off and shoves them into the bag unceremoniously, looking down at the ground as Jack removes his own.

“Bittle, you can talk to me. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but you’ve always been there to listen, and it wouldn’t be fair for me not to listen in return.”

Eric nods. “I’m sorry. I’m ruining everything. It was such a good day, and then–”

“Stop. Today was amazing. You haven’t ruined anything, but I _am_ a little confused still.”

“I’m just frustrated.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

Eric pauses, actually considering telling Jack everything. No. He can’t do it.

“It’s nothing, I promise. I’ll be okay. It’s just been a long day, and I’ve been stressed about it for a while now.”

“Why? Were you worried I wasn’t going to enjoy it?”

He shrugs. “I guess.”

“Well I did, so you can stop your worrying now. You have to stop being so hard on yourself, Eric, you’ve done so much good lately.”

Just like that, Jack is back to _Bittle_ and _Eric_. He exhales through his nose as he nods, only half registering Jack’s words.

“Well, I’m glad you had a good time. Happy early birthday, Jack.”

“Thanks, Bittle. Let’s go home, eh? You probably need some sleep.”

The car ride home is quiet, The radio is off, the windows are up, and after about five minutes Jack is completely knocked out. Eric cries again when he’s sure Jack is asleep, silent tears leaving spots on his shorts as he drives them back home. He isn’t as tired as Jack, thanks to his nap on the beach earlier, but emotionally he feels so drained. He’s beating himself up completely. _Why did you have to go and cry in his arms? Why did you have to bring him those damn cookies so many weeks ago? Why did you have to go and comfort him when he sent Parse away, and then again when Parse returned?_ The whole time, he’d known that he’d just been digging himself in deeper and deeper, and now he feels like the hole he’s dug is a grave.

Jack is still asleep when Bitty pulls into the driveway, sighing and smiling painfully as he looks at Jack fast asleep next to him. His neck is bent in a strange position and his body is limp and relaxed, his chest rising and falling as he breathes. Eric carefully nudges Jack’s shoulder until he wakes up, yawning and blinking in the moonlight. His eyes are wide and unfocused and Eric sighs as the moonlight catches the beautiful blue, dancing in the older boy’s irises.

“Jack, we’re home.”

Jack nods, yawning again. “I fell asleep.”

Eric giggles. “I noticed. You better be awake enough to march up to your room, because we both know damn well that I won’t be able to carry you.”

Jack smiles dreamily. “Probably not.” He leans his head on Bitty’s shoulder and sighs, breathing a sleepy, “Thanks again for today Eric, it was a lot of fun,” then slowly gets out of the car and goes inside.

Eric chokes back more tears, his hands still tight on the wheel and his heart tight in his chest. The front door opens and Lardo pokes her head out, seeing Eric and waving. He takes a deep breath and peels his hands off the wheel, waving back weakly.

He steps out of the car and barely makes it two steps before he’s crying again. He climbs the stairs and Lardo comes out onto the porch.

“Hey, Bits! How did everything go, Jack seems—oh shit, Bitty? What’s going on?”

He shrugs and tries to say something but doesn’t find any words. Instead, he turns away and sits on the bottom step, his breath uneven and shaky. Lardo closes the door and the light from inside is cut off so he’s left again with the moon, big and bright over the house. Lardo sits down next to him and wraps an arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. She rubs soothing circles and shushes him gently until he finally calms down enough to speak.

“Today...was a mistake,” he manages to force out, his voice choked and heavy.

“No, no no no, kiddo, it wasn’t. You have to tell me what’s going on, though.”

Eric takes a shaky breath. “I can’t keep doing this, Lardo. I’m torturing myself and it isn’t fair. It’s not fair that when we’re together, he can be completely fine and normal and have a good time but I have to go and start thinking about the future and a relationship and kids and–”

“Whoa, slow down, Bits. _Kids_?”

He lets out a watery laugh. “You see? I’m in over my head here, Lardo. And sometimes he just says things or he does things that make me think that maybe something could be...I don’t know. But then the moment ends and he goes back to being him and I’m left there out of breath. I cried in his arms, Lardo. In the middle of Faber. Just...sobbed.”

She squeezes his waist a little tighter. “Why?”

“He called me Bitty.”

She laughs quietly. “That set you off?”

He shrugs and wipes his eyes, finally feeling like he might be done crying for tonight. “Yeah, for some reason.”

“And how did he react?”

“He hugged me, and then said he was confused, and that he wanted to talk about it.”

“And?”

“Well, I couldn’t! I was crying _because_ of him, and I couldn’t just let him know that!”

“But why not? Bitty, I–” she sighs. “I think you have a major problem... You don’t know how to let yourself be loved.”

He sits in silence for a few moments, letting those words sink in. The more he thinks about it, the more he knows that she’s right. He pushes people away when they try to help, he doesn’t talk about things and bottles up his emotions so as not to inconvenience anybody.

“Just...Get some sleep, Bits. Tomorrow is Sunday so you don’t have work, and Shitty and I’ll be around if you need to talk. And you do, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Eric nods and gives her a hug before climbing the stairs and opening the door.

“Are you coming in?”

She shakes her head and looks up at the sky. “The moon is fucking gorgeous tonight, I’m gonna chill out here for a while. Night, Bits, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He closes the door and makes his way up to his room, not even bothering to remove his blue hoodie before drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting Bitty through so much trauma and I feel so bad but maybe soon he'll finally be happy! Also you'll have to excuse me for pretending to know things about figure skating in this chapter, and also in a lot of the coming chapters but with hockey. I have virtually 0 knowledge about either but I can't just NOT include them lmao.
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975


	16. like a river flows so surely to the sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Can't Help Falling In Love by Ingrid Michaelson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sQeQC4hT10)

“Rise and fucking shine, brah, it’s almost noon!”

Eric groans and pulls the covers up over his head. Shitty pulls the blinds open and sunlight comes streaming into the room, and Bitty is glad for the blanket to protect his eyes. He feels a sudden weight on his bed then gasps as Shitty slips under the blanket with him.

“Lord, _Shitty_ , I’m hardly wearing any clothes!”

Shitty shrugs. “Neither am I!”

Eric rolls his eyes and pops his head out from under the covers, stealing the blanket and wrapping it around himself.

“I’m not decent, you can’t just barge in on me like this.”

“Well, it’s not like you were jacking off or something, you were just sleeping!”

Eric gives him a warning look but he continues,“Plus, you don’t usually sleep this late and I got a little worried.”

“Yeah, I had a hard time getting to sleep last night.”

“Busy fucking mind, right?”

Eric nods.

“So, tell me everything, bro! Was it cute and perfect and like the moment in the rom-com right before the big grumpy guy realizes that he–”

“Did Lardo not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Eric sighs. “I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Any of it.”

“Did Jack not have fun? He seemed super fucking happy this morning dude, I can’t imagine he didn’t have a good time.”

“No, it isn’t that. It was just stupid. I’m trying to train myself to be his friend, but yesterday was a step in the wrong direction for me,” Eric says as Shitty snorts.

“Train yourself?”

“Well for lack of better words, yeah. I’m trying to convince my brain that being friends with him is possible and the right thing to do for both of us, but my brain doesn’t seem to wanna listen to that.”

Shitty raises an eyebrow. “Okay, but what if it isn’t listening for a reason?”

 _Wise men say only fools rush in_ _  
_ _But I can't help falling in love with you_

Eric frowns at him. “I don’t know how many times we have to have this conversation, I–”

Shitty groans. “You don’t wanna get your hopes up, I know. I know, Bits. I still don’t agree with you there.”

“Well you’re just gonna have to keep that opinion to yourself. Not gonna happen. Shitty, I literally sobbed in his arms yesterday in the middle of the ice. I can’t remember the last time I felt so damn embarrassed.”

Shitty looks at him sympathetically. “You cried?”

“It’s complicated. I feel like I can’t even control my emotions lately.”

“Well that’s because you fucking hold it all in until you physically can’t anymore. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t right. You’re keeping secrets from Jack, and you keep trying to lie to yourself and say that everything is okay—even when it obviously isn’t. That’s not how emotions are supposed to work, Bitty.”

“Well what else am I supposed to do?”

“I’ve already given you a bunch of suggestions, but you don’t seem to like any of them. Until you get some closure though, you’re not gonna be happy. I can promise you that. You need to talk to him about this.”

“Okay, so how about you talk to Lardo, then?”

Shitty scowls. “First of all, you’re changing the subject, and I’m not a fucking idiot. Second of all, that’s different. Lardo and I have been bros for years now, so it might be weird if I suddenly sprang all of that kind of bullshit on her.”

“But what about closure?” Bitty asks innocently.

“Screw you! We were talking about _you_ , remember?”

Eric is about to respond when they’re interrupted by Jack coming into Eric’s room. “Hey, Bittle, I was wondering if—oh shit. Sorry. Um, I’ll just go.”

Fuck. The last thing Eric ever wanted was for Jack to walk in on him in bed with another guy, even if that guy was Shitty. Jack lingers awkwardly for a second before hastily turning on his heel and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

“Why didn’t you close it on your way in?” Eric asks Shitty accusingly.

“Well I didn’t plan on _staying_ when I woke you up. Why does everything have to be my fault?”

“Because most of the time, it _is_ your fault!”

Shitty opens his mouth to argue, then decides against it.

“Okay, so back to your predicament. You have to decide what you’re gonna do next.”

“Oh, I already have it all planned out!”

Shitty huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Did you have a change of heart in the last 20 seconds or something?”

“What? No. My plan is total avoidance.”

The little light of hope in Shitty’s eyes goes out. “Avoidance? You’re fucking killing me here, Bitty. That’s probably the least mature way of going about this shit. You’re gonna have to face it eventually, one way or another.”

“That’s not how I see it! If I work hard enough, at least for the next week or so, I can avoid even seeing him until he forgets about the whole thing and it blows over. Then I can see him minimally and still be his friend, but from a distance!”

Shitty is shaking his head, disappointed. “You think after you took him out for a whole day of cute, sentimental bullshit that he’s just gonna forget? Not gonna happen.”

“Well...maybe at least the crying part?”

“ _Especially_ the crying part. Are you gonna explain that further, by the way?”

“I–” Eric sighs then groans. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“Perhaps.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. I cried because he called me Bitty. And also I fell on the ice and it kinda hurt.”

“I’m calling major bullshit on that second half. So explain the first.”

“Well he always calls me Bittle, or Eric, and it was just weird to hear him call me Bitty I guess.”

“But everybody else calls you Bitty almost exclusively?”

Eric laughs, a little frustrated. “I knew you wouldn’t get it. It’s just different coming from him or something.”

“Okay, but that can’t be the only reason right?”

“Well I guess it was just all of the emotions from the day, and realizing that it could have easily been a date, and I even had to convince myself that it wasn’t. Look, if you want to hear about me crying, you can go ask Lardo for the story. I cried again when I got home too.”

“Are you serious? Should I be worried?”

“No! I’m completely fine, it’s just–”

“Man I really wish you would stop fucking saying that. I know it’s a lie, you know it’s a lie, so you might as well cut it out. You’re not fine. You cried in the middle of a hockey rink last night. You went on a date yesterday with a guy who didn’t even know it was a date because you didn’t _tell_ him it was a date. And now your plan is to avoid him so you don’t have to talk about it. Bits, you’re not fine.”

Bitty feels his eyes start to sting with angry tears. He wants to be mad at Shitty and Lardo for being right, he wants to be mad at Holly for pushing him to spend time with Jack, he wants to be mad at Jack just for solely existing, but he knows that none of those options are fair. He’s so angry and he doesn’t know where to place it, even though he knows that _he_ is the only person he should be mad at.

“Damn it,” he mutters as he wipes his eyes on the blanket.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Bits. I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m just trying to be here for you. You’re, like, living in this semi-reality where you can convince yourself that things are normal even though everything is so fucked up. And it is, it’s all fucked. But there’s a way to un-fuck it!”

Eric laughs and wipes his eyes again, sniffling and moving in closer to Shitty. “I really do have to talk to him, don’t I? It’s never gonna get better if I don’t?”

“Afraid not little dude. Talking’s your last and best option.” Eric rests his head on Shitty’s shoulder and Shitty returns the gesture, resting his head on Eric’s. “I’m here for you though. Lardo’s here too, and hell, even Holly! You have a support system ready to back you the fuck up, and think about it, what’s the worst that could happen, right? He doesn’t feel the same way. That’s literally the very _worst_ possible outcome.”

“But what if he makes fun of me or something, or what if he’s completely creeped out by it?”

“Are we even talking about the same dude? Jack Zimmermann would never. He may seem like a robot at times, but the dude has the biggest fucking heart I’ve ever seen, well, next to you. I’m telling you, the worst thing that could happen is he doesn’t feel the same, and then you can move on and either focus on other things or try to find another guy.”

Bitty pauses, really taking the possibilities into consideration. “So what’s the best case scenario?”

Shitty smiles. “I think that one’s kinda up to you. You’ve been thinking so much about worst case and not getting your hopes up or whatever that you haven’t even considered the best case. There’s a huge amount of possibilities there!”

“Yeah...yeah, okay.”

“Okay?”

Eric sniffles again and nods.

Shitty hugs him and murmurs, “Welcome back to reality, dude.”

Eric giggles quietly and hugs Shitty back, completely forgetting about the fact that they’re both in their underwear and in his bed.

“Shitty, what do I even say to him?”

He shrugs. “You can’t plan it out, it’s just gotta come from your heart and shit. Trust me, when the moment is right, you’ll know. So don’t avoid him in the meantime, because if you don’t have _any_ moments then how are you gonna know when _the_ moment is, you feel?”

“I feel,” Eric sighs and Shitty ruffles his hair, already messy from sleep.

“Excellent. So just chill for today and really think everything over so you’re really sure you wanna do this—I think you should—and then take it one day at a time, one moment at a time. You got this Bitty, and no matter what happens you’re gonna be okay, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Shitty, thank you so much. For just...everything.”

“Don’t even mention it brah, it’s what I’m here for! Now put some damn clothes on, you animal!”

 _Shall I stay, would it be a sin?_ _  
_ _If I can't help falling in love with you_

 

“Hey y’all, major update. So Shitty finally managed to make me see how silly I’ve been about this whole Jack situation, and he even convinced me to talk to Jack about it. I have no idea how I’m gonna do it, or when, but it almost feels like it doesn’t matter anymore. _Almost_. It’ll happen when it happens. Sure, I’m scared to death about the outcome, but Shitty was right when he told me that I can’t keep doing this to myself. It isn’t right, it’s like constant torture! So when the moment feels right, I’m gonna tell him. What exactly? I’m not sure. Shitty told me that I need to let it come from my heart, but y’all...I can’t help but think about what I’m gonna say. In fact, since we talked, it’s the only thing I’ve thought about. I could make a fool of myself, or completely stumble over my words, or even chicken out at the last minute. Lord that would be embarrassing...Damn it, sorry, I really do need to stop worrying so much.

Anyway! I was looking online the other day and I found this amazing recipe.....”

 _Like a river flows surely to the sea_ _  
_ _Darling so it goes_  
_Some things were meant to be_

 

On Monday morning, Eric wakes up at his regular time, the lump in his throat that seemed to have made a home for itself over the past two days almost gone completely. He still feels his stomach twist up a little bit just at the thought of talking to Jack, but he’s also feeling more confident about it. According to Shitty, Jack had been all over the place the day before, running errands or something (Eric had spent the rest of Sunday in his room so he could have alone time), but Shitty wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing. All Shitty knew was Jack filled up the tank of his car so he couldn’t really complain.

Eric goes through his normal morning routine, showering and getting dressed in good spirits. He was ready to get back to the bakery, where things always made sense and recipes were always followed the same way and things just felt _normal_. Breakfast is simple, eggs and toast, and his morning walk is uneventful. No run-ins with his secret crush, no shortness of breath or heart beating out of his chest, just a normal, relaxing day. Until he gets to the bakery, that is.

As soon as he gets in the door, Holly is all over him.

“Eric Bittle, you come with me this instant!”

His eyes widen and he opens his mouth to reply but she grabs his shoulder and steers him back into the kitchen, parking him in front of the fridge. She opens it and takes out a half eaten pie, the one that Jack and Bitty had made on Saturday morning.

“So what the hell is this?”

Eric shrugs and retreats slightly. “I think you already know; it looks like you had a piece! It’s basically my apple pie but with some maple syrup and a nut topping.”

Holly frowns at him, and then down at the pie. Why does she look so mad?

“How did you come up with it? It’s the best damn pie I’ve ever had.”

She’s still so serious sounding but Eric breathes a sigh of relief to hear she isn’t really angry.

“Do you really like it that much? It wasn’t my idea, Jack was the one who suggested it!”

Holly almost drops the pie. “Jack Zimmermann? You mean Jack, the big buff hockey player? Your roommate Jack? The hockey robot?”

Eric laughs a little. “Yes ma’am! I have to admit, I was a little shocked myself when he told me he found a recipe online, but I tried it out and I think it turned out real nice!”

She splutters a little. “Real nice? Eric, do you know what this is gonna do for us? You saw the way people went crazy over your apple pies, but this is a completely different level! No offense, honey, your pies are amazing of course!”

“None taken, Holly. Do you want me to make some more?”

She blinks at him then laughs. “Of course I do, you damn angel, Eric Bittle! I’ll go out and get some more syrup, but you get started. I want these on display when we open today! Full pies and minis, got it mister?”

“Got it, ma’am!”

“Good. Oh, and while we’re on the topic, how did things go on Saturday? Y’all have a good time?”

Eric blushes just slightly and nods. “It’s a little complicated I guess, but it was a good day, and I think good things might be coming out of it. I’m uh...I’m gonna talk to him.”

“You’re gonna...oh. Oh! You’re gonna tell him how you feel?!”

Eric nods and Holly beams. “Oh sweetheart, that’s amazing news! How do you think he’s gonna react?”

He shrugs. “Honestly, I have no clue. Every time I think about it my stomach goes a little funny. I’m gonna try not to worry about it until I really need to, you know?”

“I’m so proud of you, Eric, I’m sure that wasn’t an easy choice to make. It’ll be better in the long run though, just to _know_ what’s going on. Alright, well you get started and I’ll be back in a few with some more syrup!”

Eric’s day consists mostly of making the new pies, thankful that his brain somehow remembers the new ingredients exactly. His mind has always had a way for retaining information about recipes well. Plus this way, he won’t have to reach out to Jack to ask for the recipe. It’s not like he’s avoiding him necessarily, but Eric also feels that he doesn’t have to go out of his way to talk to him either.

Around noon, Holly comes into the kitchen and grabs a large box from the fridge. “Wow, what’s in there? Cake?”

“It, uh...” She purses her lips. “It’s a specialty order! Somebody called in yesterday while I was here and said they needed it today, and they’re here to pick it up.”

He narrows his eyes slightly. She was being awfully vague, but he decides he’s probably just being a little paranoid.

“Well, alright then. How are the pies doing out there?”

Her eyes light up again. “Oh Eric, they’re going like crazy! It’s like what happened with your apple pies all over again. This is the biggest business boom we’ve had in a long time. And uh,” she lowers her voice as she scoots in close, “just between us, I’ve been thinking of maybe opening another location.”

Eric gasps with delight. “Lord, Holly, that’s amazing! Would it be around here?”

She shrugs. “I haven’t really thought about any of the details yet, but with the amount of profit we’re bringing in because of you, it only makes sense that I start thinking about expanding.”

“Well congratulations, this is huge news!”

She nods and adjusts her grip on the large box, obviously struggling with it a little bit. “You think you could keep it hush-hush for now? I don’t want rumors going around before plans even start coming together, you know?”

“Of course! You need any help with that?” he asks as she adjusts the box again. She suddenly pulls it a little closer to herself.

“What? No! I’m perfectly fine, just gotta bring this out to its owner. You keep working on those pies, sweetheart.”

He chuckles as she hurries out of the kitchen, still a little confused but not enough to ask more questions. Sometimes Holly just had a strange way of going about things and he had to accept that.

They close around seven, and Holly seems antsy for some reason. Eric chalks it up to the fact that it was such a busy day and again decides it’s probably best not to ask any questions, so he helps her clean the kitchen as much as she can before she sends him home, refusing to let him work another minute.

When he gets home, something in the air feels weird. Lardo is locked away in her room, probably working on her latest piece, and Shitty isn’t in the reading nook like normal. Eric hums quietly, suddenly missing the noise and bustle that came with Smashfest and all of his new friends being there. It was weird not having Ransom and Holster around, though Shitty said that they tend to stop by every couple of weeks or so during the summer and they should be returning shortly. Nursey, Dex, and Chowder were missed too, and Bitty wasn’t even sure when he would see them next.

He opens the fridge to see if there’s anything to eat, oddly enough not in the mood for cooking and hoping for some leftover takeout. He finds nothing and groans when he realizes he’ll have to call someplace and order food, so he closes the fridge and sighs.

“Bitty,” a voice breathes from the doorway. He yelps and turns around, his chest tightening. Jack is there, smiling and slightly concerned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Did you have a good day at work?” Jack asks the question, but Eric can tell he isn’t really looking for the answer.

“Yeah, it was fine. Your pies are the new big thing, by the way, people are losing their minds over them!”

“My pies?”

“You know! The Canadian ones, with the syrup?”

“Oh,” Jack laughs, a little nervously. What’s he so nervous about?

“Yeah, so I spent a lot of my day making those. How about you? Did you have a good run this morning?”

Jack doesn’t answer. Instead, he crosses the kitchen in a few strides and grabs Bitty’s arm, gently tugging him toward the stairs.

“Uh? Jack? What’s going on?”

Eric can feel his pulse rushing in his ears, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering violently. Jack ignores him again and maintains his grip on the smaller boy’s thin wrist, pulling him up to the second floor. When they reach the top of the stairs, Eric yanks his hand away from Jack.

“ _Jack_ , what are you doing?”

“I, uh...Just come with me.”

“What?”

“Just come with me,” he repeats, a little more urgently, turning and making a beeline for Eric’s room. Bitty is feeling a little nauseous and lightheaded and thoroughly confused.

“Jack,” he breathes, but he’s ignored again. He has no choice but to follow.

Jack stands in front of Eric’s bedroom, looking between the door and Eric until Eric rolls his eyes and pushes the door open.

“Jack, are you gonna tell me what’s–”

He stops talking when he sees what’s on his desk.

Eric is greeted by a brand new laptop, and not a cheap one either. It’s bigger than his previous one and much fancier, the same brand but an updated model. He gasps and looks back at Jack, who’s still standing in the doorway and smiling.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I—Jack, what the hell is this for?”

Jack shrugs and Eric turns back around, noticing a box next to the laptop. He crosses to the desk and looks inside to find a cake with the words, ‘Thank You, Bittle’ written on it in Holly’s handwriting. He puts the pieces together; Jack running around doing errands the previous day, Holly acting weird about the box from earlier...Good lord he was going to kill that woman.

He feels tears come to his eyes again, but this time they’re more happy than anything. “Jack,” he says again, “what the hell is this for?”

Jack steps into the room, standing back a few feet. “I...I was worried that you thought I didn’t enjoy myself on Saturday, so I figured I should say thank you again.”

“ _With a brand new freaking laptop?_ ”

“Well I noticed that your old one was looking a little outdated, and I know you use it a lot for your vlogging, even though I don’t really get any of that stuff. I made sure the one you got has a really nice camera. Oh and don’t worry, Lardo helped me transfer all of your files and stuff over, so everything should be there!”

“Jack, I–” A tear makes its way down Bitty’s face and Jack looks concerned.

“Oh no. You don’t like it? I’m sorry, I still have the old one, I can go get it and–”

“No, I love it!” Eric says through his tears. “It’s just...you got me a laptop? Just to say thank you? This thing must have cost you a fortune, you didn’t have to do that, you shouldn’t have...”

“Well you didn’t have to go and plan a whole day just for my birthday, but you did that! Plus, I had some money to blow, and it was just sitting around, so I figured I might as well do something nice for you, to let you know that I enjoyed myself!”

Eric gapes for a second, wiping his tears on his sleeve. “But a laptop?”

Jack laughs and takes a step forward. “Just accept the gift, Bittle. It really isn’t a big deal. We can take the cake downstairs and Shitty should be back with more beer soon.”

Eric’s head is spinning. What did this even mean? Jack had bought him a fucking _laptop_ ; people don’t just do things like that. He’s at a loss for words, so he steps forward and hugs Jack. Jack’s breath hitches for a second but he returns the hug, laughing quietly.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you.’”

Eric pushes away from the hug and laughs, his tears finally stopping. “Jack Zimmermann, are you really chirping me right now?”

Jack smiles down at him and chirps again, “You’re welcome.”

 _So take my hand, take my whole life too_ _  
_ _Cause I can't help falling in love with you_

Oh fuck. This is it, this is the moment. Eric is gonna tell him everything, right here and right now. It’s happening so soon, and Eric’s heart is pumping so hard he’s sure that Jack can probably hear it, and he’s about to start talking when his phone starts to ring in his pocket. He sighs and pulls it out, seeing that it’s his mom calling him.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s my mother, I haven’t called her in ages. Shit.”

Jack chuckles. “Well, you’d better answer it eh? Nothing scarier than an angry mom.”

Eric nods and picks up the phone. “Mama?”

“ _Eric. Richard. Bittle._ ” Oh no. The full name. His eyes get big and Jack smiles sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder and turning to leave the room. Eric opens his mouth to tell him to wait, because he was about to make his big announcement, but his mom starts talking again and he grimaces as he has to let Jack go.

“You haven’t called, Dicky, and you said you would call!” Her tone is dangerous.

Jack is now out of the room and Eric sighs as he collapses onto his bed, still eying the new laptop on his desk.

“I know, Mama, I’m sorry. Things have been so crazy lately and I just haven’t had time.”

“You haven't had time to talk to your poor old mother for ten minutes?”

“You know what I mean!”

He hears her sigh and her tone shifts. “Yes, I know what you mean. But I don’t like that I have to hear about things through your vlog. You know I usually don’t watch it, but you haven’t been calling and I just wanted to feel like I was keeping up with your life. When were you gonna tell me that you were on the news!?”

His heart sinks. She’s been watching his vlogs, which means she knows all about Jack. She knows all about him. He takes a deep breath and swallows hard, trying to out that thought out of his mind. Why address it if she doesn’t bring it up?

“I was gonna tell you when it happened, I swear I was, but then my friends made a big deal about it, and I got distracted and completely forgot.”

She tsks. “Well, you’re coming down home for a visit and you can tell us all about it then. I already bought your plane ticket for you and everything! You leave tomorrow morning!”

He sits up, frowning. “Tomorrow morning? Mama, what about my job? The bakery has been so busy lately, I can’t just leave!”

“Dicky, I’m sure the bakery will be fine without you. It’s only a couple of days, you’ll be back up North before you know it. We need a real visit with you, not like those whirlwind couple of days we had after graduation.”

He groans then sighs. “Alright mother. I do miss you, you know?”

“I know, Dicky. I miss you, too, and so does your father. It’s different now somehow, knowing you’re out there living a real adult life.”

“Yeah, it’s different for me too.”

He hears her sniffle and clear her throat. Is she crying?

“Well, I’ll be picking you up at the airport tomorrow when you land. I’m sure you can get a ride there in the morning?”

“Yes, Mama, don’t worry about me!”

“Alright, Dicky, I’ll let you go then. See you tomorrow, sweetie.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Love you!”

“I love you too.”

He hangs up the phone, exhaling through his nose and glancing at the laptop again, suddenly feeling a little lost and defeated. The moment had been stolen from him, and he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to work up the courage to make it happen again. Either way, he’s about to have some time away from his new home, but the implications of his mother having watched his vlogs bring that familiar lump back to his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Lord did this chapter go in a completely different direction than I originally planned for it to! Everything just kinda came together though, so I hope you enjoy it :)  
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson


	17. fire meet gasoline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNdeLSKSZ1M)  
> TW: Mentions of implied sexual violence

When Eric’s plane touches down in Georgia, he feels practically soaked from the amount he’s sweating. Of course he’s excited to be coming home for a few days and seeing his parents, but the fact that his mom has watched his vlogs is so nerve-wracking that he isn’t able to think of much else.

Shitty had driven him to the airport earlier in the morning, assuring Eric that everything would be fine and it was only a few days. He would be back with his support group of friends before he knew it, but it still felt terrifying to know they were so far away. Lardo insisted that they create a house group chat, though Jack wasn’t aware of Bitty’s dilemma with his parents and was a little confused by it.

As soon as the plane is on the ground, Eric sends a text in the chat: ‘just touched down guys!’

Within a few minutes, all three of his friends respond. Shitty says ‘miss u already dude,’ Lardo agrees with Shitty’s message, and Jack just sends a singular smiley face. Eric can’t help but smile at that.

Eric had done the smart thing and only packed a singular carry-on so he’s able to skip baggage claim completely. He calls his mom to locate her and after a few minutes of confusion and bad directions, he finds the correct Starbucks and hangs up.

“Dicky! Over here! I’m over here!”

He smiles, a little embarrassed as his mother shouts at him from across the crowded terminal. He shoulders his bag and hurries over to her, if anything just to get her to stop yelling. She pulls him into a hug that has potential to break bones and she sighs dramatically.

“You look good, Dicky! Have you been working out?”

He laughs then thinks for a second. “I guess I’ve been doing a little bit of running.” An image of Jack in his running shorts and a beanie pops into his mind and his heart hammers hard a couple times. “And I walk to work!”

“Well, good! Is that the only bag you have honey?”

He nods and smiles. He really has missed his mother a lot.

“Alright then, I guess we can head home! Do you want me to get that for you?”

“Mama, it’s just one bag, I’m okay!”

She chuckles and shrugs. “Just thought I’d ask. How was the flight?”

“Not sure, I was asleep for most of it.”

The conversation is awkward and a little stilted, almost forced. He can tell his mom wants to bring something up—he knows exactly what, too—but doesn’t know how to go about it.

“Do you want some coffee while we’re here? I can pay.”

“No I’m fine, I slept on the plane so I’m all rested up.”

“Right, of course. Well let’s get going, you’re only here for so long! Your flight home leaves Thursday afternoon, did I tell you that already?”

“Yes, you did!”

She laughs nervously as they approach the car. “I couldn’t remember if I did or not, silly me.”

She opens the passenger side door and Eric climbs in, resting his bag on his lap and buckling his seatbelt quickly. Getting in the car with her felt like trapping himself, and if she decided to bring up his vlogs now, there was no escape. Well, he could always launch himself out of the car, but that probably wasn’t the best option. Probably.

She starts the car and is uncharacteristically quiet as she navigates out of the airport, occasionally muttering to herself if another driver cuts her off or does something stupid on the road. Eric tries to relax but finds that it just isn’t possible. The tension in the air is almost tangible, and he can hear his pulse pounding in his ears as they get on the main road.

“So, who’s this Jack boy?” his mother finally asks, a little accusingly.

And there it is. Just like that, he feels like he’s going to throw up. His heartbeat somehow gets even faster and his palms are practically dripping as he swallows hard.

“Mama, I—I was gonna tell you eventually, I just–” he trails off. He isn’t even sure what to say, because he’s so shocked by the fact that he actually has to have this conversation now. It feels like the car has crashed and the airbag’s hit him in the face.

“Dicky, this isn’t really... _news_ to me. I mean, I always tried not to assume things, but the baking? The figure skating? The obsession with, uh, what’s her name?”

“Beyoncé?” he supplies.

She nods. “I mean...It’s difficult for me as a mother, I never wanted this kind of life for you.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

A sigh and a pause. “It’s not gonna be easy, Eric. Being who you are.”

“Mama, I don’t think you know as much as you think you do. I—I was _out_ in college. I was bullied when I was in middle school and even high school. I’ve already been through it all, don’t you think I know how hard it is?”

She shakes her head sadly. “But it’s not going to get any easier.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m telling you that you’re wrong, Mama. It has gotten easier, and I don’t have to hide things from my friends. I can be myself, and it feels good. Coming back here almost feels like a step backward.”

He sees tears come to her eyes.

“You’re not… Are you angry?”

She wipes away a tear and keeps her eyes on the road. “Of course I’m not angry, this has been a long time coming. It’s just hard coming to terms with it, you know? My baby boy won’t ever get married, or have kids, or live a normal life.”

“What are you talking about? I can still do all of those things, it’ll just be with another man.”

She takes in a sharp breath and another tear falls. “I’m sorry. This is just so hard on me.”

“Then how do you think I feel?”

She’s quiet for the next couple of minutes and Eric is crying now too. He wasn’t expecting anything amazing, but he wasn’t expecting this either.

“Tell me about him.”

“What?”

“Jack. Tell me about him. I...He makes you happy, that much I can already tell. And that’s all I really want for you. The rest I’ll just have to work through myself. So tell me about him. Is he, uh,” she gestures vaguely and Eric chuckles, drying his eyes.

“Gay? Yeah Mama, he is.” Eric realizes that he’s actually not sure if Jack identifies as gay. He had mentioned something about dating girls at one point, but that isn’t important at the moment.

“You know you’re allowed to say it, right? For a long time I was afraid of that word, but now I feel like it’s such an important part of who I am. You can say it.”

She’s quiet again, gripping the wheel tightly and taking deep breaths. Eric continues.

“He’s quiet, and polite, and tall.” He laughs. “ _Real_ tall. He’s a hockey player, so he’s all muscular and big, but he’s so gentle, and he has a big heart. He has an accent too, he’s from Canada! And he knows French, but I’ve never really heard him speak it, just a word here or there.”

She remains silent, looking straight ahead.

“Mama, you told me to tell you about him, if you didn’t want–”

“No, it’s okay, you’re right. I’m trying here Dicky, I’m really trying. It’s just so different knowing that there’s actually a boy out there you have feelings for.”

“It makes it more real?” Eric guesses.

She nods and smiles a little. “It does. So are you and this Jack boy...?”

“Dating?” He shakes his head. “It’s complicated, but you probably know that if you watched the vlogs.”

“It was just a couple, I booked the ticket then called you as soon as I heard you were on the news, I wasn’t paying much attention to what you were saying about Jack, honestly. So, things haven’t changed since then?”

He considers giving her more details. The panic attack, the day trip, the laptop. He decides against it for now. “No, not much has changed. Like I said, things are complicated.”

She doesn’t press the subject any further.

“This...it’s just gonna take me a little bit of time, but Eric, I want you to know that I still love you just as much as I always have, and I’m proud of you for being honest with me. Even if I did sorta force you to be.” He laughs quietly. “I’m glad we’re doing this in person, too.”

“Is that why you flew me down here?”

She laughs. “I suppose that was part of it, but I really did want to see my boy.”

They pull into the driveway and Eric feels a warmth in his chest upon seeing his childhood home, completely unchanged, baking in the late July heat.

“Have you told Coach yet?”

She turns off the car and shakes her head. “I figured that’s something you should do for yourself. I can be there for that, if you want. You know how he is.”

Eric shudders. He does know. If his mom had reacted that way, he can’t even imagine how his father would.

“I’d like that.”

She smiles and smooths back his hair. “Happy to be home?”

He looks back to the house and takes a deep breath, his chest rising and filling with familiar air. “Yeah, I am.”

His bedroom is just as he left it. The last time he had been home was Christmas of his junior year; after that the airfare was getting too expensive and he spent quite a few holidays alone. He doesn’t bother unpacking his bag considering he’ll be gone in a day and a half, so instead he pulls out his phone and calls Lardo. She answers almost immediately.

“Bits? Are you okay? Shitty’s here too, by the way.”

He hears Shitty yell something unintelligible in the background and he smiles.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“So, did she...?”

He nods, then realizes that they can’t see him.

“Yeah,” he repeats. “It could have gone better, but it could have gone worse. She’s struggling with the concept, and she kept talking about how hard it was on her.”

Lardo scoffs. “Did she consider that it might be harder on you?”

“That’s what I said! I think that’s when she realized that she wasn’t the only one being affected.” He pauses. “She, um. She asked me about Jack.”

“Oh. Shit. What did you tell her?”

“Not much. She doesn’t know about what happened on Saturday. Actually, she doesn’t know much at all. I think the only piece of information she hung onto was the fact that Jack is a boy and I like him.”

Lardo laughs. “Fucking typical. But you’re okay, yeah?”

“I’m fine, more or less. She wants me to tell my dad though.”

The other side of the line is quiet for a second, then Shitty’s voice comes through.

“Okay, here’s the plan. I can get myself on a flight down to Georgia and hide in the bushes while you tell him. If anything goes wrong, I pop out and beat the fucking shit out of him then whisk you away like the knight in shining armor that I am.” He hears a thump and Shitty says, “Ow! I was just joking, Lards, and my head is fucking fragile, you shouldn’t do that shit.”

Eric is laughing now as his friends argue from a thousand miles away. “I appreciate the offer Shitty, but I don’t think it’s gonna come to that.”

“Whatever you say, brah. Just know that I’d hypothetically beat up your dad for you.”

There’s another thump and another “ow!” and Eric giggles again, feeling much more relaxed and at home hearing their banter. He’s about to thank Shitty but Shitty says in a hushed tone, “Okay she’s gone. Bits, I took your advice, which I guess was really my advice that you fucking turned around on me, and I talked to her. I think we’re going on a date soon.”

“What? Shitty that’s awesome! How did that conversation go?”

“It was really chill, which is not surprising considering it’s Lardo. We both felt like it’s been due for a while now, but we were both nervous about how the other would react. It’s fucking hilarious actually, we could have been dating for months now, maybe years, but both of us were too scared to say anything. Shit, I really think you need to talk to Jack ASAP. I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy.”

Eric smiles. “I almost did last night, but I was interrupted by my mother. I still can’t believe that boy went and bought me a laptop.”

Shitty chuckles. “He doesn’t know how to do things halfway, it’s either 0 or 110 with Jack.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Alright well I’ll let you go, call me or Lards if you need anything. You got this Bits, I believe in you dude!”

“Thanks Shitty, talk to you soon!”

He spends a little bit of time in his room, just looking around and remembering little things about his life, back when it seemed so simple. He used to pretend that the rug in the middle of his floor was a small ice rink and practice his figure skating, or sometimes it was a dance floor. This room is where he perfected his Crazy in Love choreography, where he cried for two hours straight after a particularly bad run-in with a bully in 8th grade, where his mom sometimes brought him cookies when he was sad—eating in his room was almost always forbidden, but she knew when it was the right time to break that rule. This is where he had told his father that no, he didn’t want to play football, he was happy with figure skating. How his father ever expected him to survive football he wasn’t sure, but as his only son Eric could understand his father’s desire.

Finally he heads downstairs and makes his way straight to the kitchen, where his mother is preparing some things for dinner. She’s making fried chicken in a huge pot and Eric can smell cornbread in the oven. On the counter, a large pitcher of sweet tea is steeping, still almost boiling hot so the flavor of the tea comes through before adding ice. It’s the most stereotypical Southern meal he can think of, but his mouth begins to water nonetheless.

“Dicky, could you watch this for me? I have to check on the cornbread and I don’t want the chicken to burn.”

He crosses to the stove, carefully prodding the pieces of meat sitting in the oil. The heat in the kitchen is already causing him to sweat a little; he isn’t accustomed to the Georgia heat as well as he used to be.

“Where’s Coach?”

“He has practice until a little later. Did I tell you he started a summer league? It’s nothing serious, just to help train kids before the school season starts.”

“Oh, that’s nice! I guess he’s been busy then?”

She sighs. “He’s hardly home these days, but when he is he seems happier. It’s give and take. He promised he’d be home for dinner though, so he should be here in an hour or so!”

He nods and steps back as she closes the oven and takes over again. He didn’t realize how lonely she must be lately and now understands why she flew him down South so hastily.

“You need help with anything else, Mama?”

“No, darling, I think I’ve got it all covered! You just relax for a while!”

When his father gets home, Eric can feel the tension in the air again. His dad has no idea about his coming out to his mom, and he knows that he only has a couple days to work up the courage to tell him before going back to Massachusetts.

His father’s greeting is just a pat on the back and a handshake, which Eric returns a little awkwardly. His father scowls. “Your grip isn’t tight enough, a real man has a nice firm handshake.”

He tries again and this time Eric squeezes his father’s large hand as hard as he can, now apparently satisfactory.

“Suzanne! Is the food ready?”

“Yes dear,” his mother calls from the kitchen as the sink turns on. “Come wash up and we’ll eat!”

Dinner is almost completely silent, save for a few occasional questions from his mom about life in his new house, his job, his new friends, et cetera. He answers them all honestly, skillfully skating around talking about Jack at all. His mother notices, and he knows that she does because she keeps giving him weird looks, but he still isn’t ready to bring that up to his father. It’s not even that talking about Jack would instantly make it obvious, but he’s so afraid he’s going to say something about him that will give it away.

After the plates are cleared away, his mother brings out some bowls and a chocolate peanut butter mousse cake, one of Eric’s favorites from his childhood. He has three helpings, then immediately feels regretful about eating so much, and also a little sleepy. His mom notices his eyelids drooping because she smiles and pats him on the cheek, telling him to go to bed. The sun has only just started to dip beyond the horizon, but Eric was up early that morning and it was a fairly emotional day, so he doesn’t find it difficult to fall asleep in his old bed.

When he wakes up his window is open and there are birds singing, a morning breeze cooling his face in the already humid air. Late July in Georgia is a hot and humid time but it’s never really affected Eric as much as it does now. He has to peel his t-shirt off and scrunches up his face at how gross he feels, so he immediately takes a long, cool shower. It’s only about nine when he goes downstairs and his mother is all over him, asking him if he wants breakfast or something to drink.

He allows her to dote on him a little bit because it reminds him of good times, and it lets him know that she really does love him just the same, if not more. The subject hasn’t come up again but he’s been thinking about it a lot, and he can tell she has been too. She’s more distracted than usual, a little bit flaky, and almost lets his waffles catch on fire. He assures her that, “It’s okay, I always liked them a little crispy,” and she laughs, loosening up a bit. His father is still asleep by the time he finishes his food, then his mom suggests they go for a walk while the temperature is still relatively low.

Eric agrees to the walk, not realizing that they’d run into ten other neighborhood moms. The reactions he gets are mostly the same, “You’re so grown!” or, “It’s been years, honey!” He forces himself to be polite and answer all of the same questions: where are you living now? What have you been doing? Are you really out of college already? Most aren’t surprised that he’s such a successful baker, especially since when he was still living at home his baked goods were always the most popular at the bake sales, much to the chagrin of the PTA moms who always worked so hard to outdo each other.

When they get home his mom apologizes for putting him through so much social interaction so early in the morning but also admits that she feels proud to see him talking about his success in life so far to all the people still living in the same little town.

They spend most of the rest of the day in the kitchen together, catching up and baking, and it feels so natural again. His father wakes up at lunchtime and has coffee and a bagel before leaving for yet another football practice.

“See, normally I’d be alone for the rest of the day, but now I get to spend it baking with my favorite boy!”

Eric rolls his eyes as she kisses his cheek, but it’s all for show; he secretly loves the attention from his mom.

He tells her about the new pie recipe that he’s been making, which gets her all excited.

“That sounds different! How’d you come up with it?”

“It wasn’t me, it was...It was Jack.”

Her eyes change slightly but the smile stays the same. It’s the first time Jack has been mentioned since the car ride.

“Oh! Well that’s—that’s good!” She isn’t really sure what to say, Eric can tell. Either way, she ushers him into the car right away so they can stop by the store and pick up the ingredients that Eric needs for the pie.

Despite the fact that it’s a Wednesday afternoon, they still run into some more neighbors and Eric has to go through the almost identical sets of questions again, answering them a little impatiently because damn it, he just wants to go back home and bake with his Mama!

Finally, they’re able to check out and head home. They start right away; his mother does all of the steps necessary for their classic Bittle apple pie and Eric works on the new ingredients, and soon enough they have two pies in the oven.

They clean up the kitchen while the pies are baking and chat for a while. Eric gets caught up on all of the latest town drama, something that has always been a great point of interest for him and his mother. She tells him about how Linda is pregnant for the fifth time in five years, and how Sharon was caught cheating on her husband with a college student, and how a high schooler tried to start a lawn mowing business but almost got sued when he destroyed an entire garden.

Then Eric starts to tell his mom about all of the weird times he’s had in the last two months in his new home, but she stops him almost immediately when he brings up Shitty.

“Is that really his name?”

“No.”

“Well what is it then?”

“I still don’t actually know, now that I think about it...”

He vaguely mentions Smashfest but plays it down quite a bit and talks mostly about Shitty and Lardo, even going as far as telling his mom about the fact that they may be getting together as a couple. Again, he avoids mentioning Jack.

Soon enough, the pies are finished and cooling, the smell filling up the kitchen and overloading Eric’s senses. There’s something about this kitchen that seems to amplify smells, almost like the way a room with good acoustics would amplify sounds. It’s still a fairly new smell but in such a familiar environment; Eric feels like he’s combining two completely different aspects of his life and it feels a little weird but also right. Like he’s come full circle, and he’s finally getting some kind of closure.

They plan to cook dinner together and have another nice dinner when Eric’s dad gets home, but his mom gets a call from him before they can start, and plans change.

“The banquet? Is that tonight? You put it on the calendar for _next_ Wednesday honey.” She groans and hangs up the phone.

“Dicky, I’m so sorry. Every summer the high school throws this big banquet for the teachers and staff. I thought it wasn’t until next week...”

“It’s okay, Mama! I can get myself some food, I’ll be fine here on my own!”

“Are you sure? I feel so bad, you have to leave tomorrow afternoon.” She pouts a little.

“Don’t worry about it, at least we got the chance to bake right?”

She hugs him and sighs, obviously not happy with the new arrangements. “Right. Well I guess I’d better go get ready then, it starts in an hour.”

 

“A banquet? For the teachers? In the middle of the summer?”

Eric has nothing to do—why hadn’t he thought to bring his laptop?—so he calls Shitty as he eats Chinese food in his room, feeling a little rebellious.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t make any sense to me either. I can’t remember it happening before. I mean, my dad’s been the coach for years! Maybe it’s a new tradition or something.”

“Yeah, maybe. So you’re just alone in your childhood bedroom?”

“Mm-hm, and it’s a little weird. In a good way though. Because it’s so familiar, but at the same time it almost feels wrong for me to be here. I’ve moved on, you know? There are some not so good memories associated with this place, but there are some good ones too.”

“But all of that’s in the past, now!”

“For the most part, yeah. Do you know how many old neighbors I had to talk to today? I swear, we went to the store to pick up three things and we were there almost an hour. Why the hell was everybody and their mother shopping on Wednesday afternoon?”

Shitty laughs. “Did you tell them all about how gay you are? Ooh, did you let them know that you have a crush on a huge Canadian hockey player? I’m sure that would go over well down South!”

“Stop it, you jerk! It was just like...senior year of high school. When every adult asked about college and majors and plans for the future and stuff? It was awful.”

“Speaking of, you still haven’t told your dad, have you?”

Eric groans and rolls over on his bed. “I thought I would get to tonight, but obviously that isn’t happening. Which means I’ll have to do it at breakfast tomorrow...”

“Dude, it’s gonna be fine. You’ll tell him and then you’re gonna board a plane back to us, the people who celebrate how fucking gay you are! No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, you don’t know my dad.”

“How bad can it be?”

Eric scoffs. “Pretty bad. I guess we’ll see.”

“Yeah, I guess we will...Just hang in there, brah!”

“Thanks. Um, how has Jack been?”

He hears Shitty chuckle. “He’s been good. Spending a lot less time locked in his room. The bastard even stole my reading nook earlier today, so I’m not sure how much I like this new and arguably improved Jack Zimmermann. But yeah, he’s been good. He asked me earlier how you were.”

“He did?”

“He did! In his awkward but well-meaning Zimmermann way. It was kind of adorable really.”

Eric’s heart flutters. Was it really possible that Jack could feel the same way about him? He had spent so much time trying to ignore his own feelings and convince himself that it could never happen, and now he was worried that he was reading too much into things and making it all up.

“You okay, Bitty?”

“What?” Eric breathes. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Shitty chuckles again and sighs. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Lardo is asking me to go to the store with her. Why she needs to go to the store at nine at night is beyond me, but I guess I have to support her or whatever.”

“You two are so perfect for each other,” Eric murmurs, a little jealous but mostly happy for his friends.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, just wishing you luck. See you tomorrow!”

“Yep, good luck, dude!”

 

Eric doesn’t eat any of his breakfast the following morning; he’s absolutely sure that if he tries to put food into his body it’ll just come right back up. He can tell that his mother is worried, and when his dad enters the kitchen he has to steady himself, suddenly feeling lightheaded. His chest is so tight and his stomach is in knots as his father sits down on the opposite end of the table, picking up a newspaper and slowly eating his food.

His mom squeezes his hand in encouragement as she fills up a glass with orange juice, and he clears his throat, hoping that his voice is there when he tries to speak.

“Hey, Coach?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up from his newspaper.

“I have something I need to tell you.” The words feel robotic, almost like they aren’t his words to begin with.

His father raises an eyebrow and glances up but says nothing, so Eric continues.

“I, um, don’t really know how to say this without just coming right out and saying it, so–”

“You didn’t go and get some girl pregnant, did you?”

“Wha–no, Coach, I–” He squeezes his eyes shut and tries desperately to take a deep breath.

“I’m gay.”

The room is so quiet and his father hasn’t moved a muscle, he’s still staring down at the paper and dear lord please say something, _anything_.

“No.”

Eric frowns. “W–What? What do you mean, no?”

“ _No_ ,” his father repeats, slowly placing the paper on the table and finally meeting Eric’s teary brown eyes. “My son is not some _queer_ ,” he spits, and that last word stings Eric like nothing ever has. It wasn’t the same as the teasing from people his age, it was coming from his _father_.

“Coach, I–”

“Stop talking. Listen to me. You’re confused. You kids these days are all saying that you’re gay, just because you want to be different, just because you want to fit in with some new trend. It’s bullshit, if you ask me.”

“It’s not about that, it’s–”

“Have you tried dating a girl? Have you even given it a shot? How can you even know if you’ve never tried?”

“I just know.”

“No,” his father says one last time. “I refuse to let _that_ sleep under my roof,” he says to Eric’s mother.

Eric’s mother carefully touches her husband’s shoulder, worry etched onto her face. “Honey, you’re overreacting, he’s still our Dicky.”

He turns to her now. “You knew about this? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I left that up to him, it wasn’t my place to say anything.”

He shakes his head and stands up violently, slamming his fork down. Eric flinches and more tears fall, right onto his breakfast.

“Dad, please–”

“You’ve lost all right to call me that, I refuse to call you my son anymore.”

“ _Honey_!” his mother interjects, horrified, but he pushes her away.

“Suzanne, this isn’t up for discussion.” He turns back to Eric. “Get the hell out of this house. You crossed a line today, Eric. What you are… It’s wrong, and I don’t believe in it. It’s just not right.”

He can’t even stand, he can’t even speak. His body isn’t his anymore. He’s shaking so hard and he’s sure he’s going to vomit or pass out, or both. His father is standing at the other end of the table, breathing heavily, hate in his eyes. Eric so desperately wants to be brave and fight back, he wants to put his father in his place, but he can’t.

His father speaks again. “Go get your bag, and get the hell out.”

He opens his mouth and tries to respond but no sound comes out. He can taste the salt from his tears as they stream down his face and he closes his mouth, his head spinning.

“ _Go!_ ” His father raises his voice, and it snaps Eric back to reality. He hastily exits the kitchen and runs upstairs, grabbing his bag and not looking back. He doesn’t even know how to feel. He’s shocked, he’s afraid, and he’s angry, he’s so angry. The collar of his shirt is wet from tears and he storms down the stairs and out the door. He hears his mom yell something at his father as she grabs the car keys and follows him out.

He doesn’t make it to the car. He collapses on the front lawn onto his hands and knees, his vision blurred and his whole body giving up. His mom sits down next to him and pulls his head to her chest, soothingly rubbing his back. She keeps apologizing but her words aren’t registering. He hasn’t cried this hard in a long time, sobs violently wracking his body as he sits in his mother’s arms, suddenly feeling like that 14 year old who came home from school every day and tried to hide the bruises and the scratches and the eyes red from crying.

He isn’t sure how long they sit on the grass, the early morning mist slowly lifting around them. Eventually he regains control of his body and starts to stand, his mother supporting him and walking him to the car. He curls up in the passenger seat and she puts his seatbelt on around him. The drive to the airport is completely quiet and Eric is still crying, his mouth dry and his muscles all achy. Halfway there, he looks over and sees that she’s crying too, completely silent. Again, he tries to say something but no sound passes his lips, so he just turns to look out the window.

 

“Eric. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.” He’s lying, and he knows that she knows that, but he can’t form any other sentences besides those. They’re standing in the airport, they’ve been there for a few hours now, and Eric is about to board his plane home. He realizes in this moment that that little white house in Massachusetts is his home now—how could he ever come back to Georgia?

“He’ll change his mind eventually. He’ll come around.” Now she’s lying too, both to Eric and herself. They both know that just won’t happen.

“He won’t. It’s fine, Mama, I really don’t care.”

She wipes another tear from her face and pulls him in for one last hug. “I love you honey. Promise you’ll call?”

He nods. She says again, “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry for the things I said, and the things he said. And I’m sorry for anybody who’s ever given you trouble. You’re the light of my whole world, you know that? I love you so much, and I’m sorry that I made it about me. I’m here for you, and I support you. I just want you to be happy.”

He nods again, not sure how to respond. A voice announces the last call to board the plane and his mother kisses his forehead. He quickly hugs her then boards his plane, trying not to cry but ultimately failing.

 

When he lands, he calls Shitty to ask for a ride home, but Shitty answers the phone apologetically. “Fuck, Bits, I’m so sorry. Lardo and I are out eating dinner. Could you call Jack?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” He can’t hide the melancholy and exhaustion in his voice.

“Bitty, are you okay?” Shitty asks.

“Fine,” he lies. He told himself he was going to stop lying to his friends about his emotions, but it wouldn’t be fair to ruin their first date either.

“Okay,” Shitty says slowly. “We’ll be home a little later and we can talk, okay?”

“Alright,” he sighs as he hangs up and dials Jack’s number. He waits a few seconds and it goes right to voicemail. He curses under his breath and frustrated tears threaten his eyes again. He blinks them away and calls for a cab instead.

All of the lights are out when the taxi pulls up to the house, the sun starting to set in the distance. He pays the driver and rushes into the house, not even bothering to turn lights on as he navigates in the increasing darkness. When he gets to his room he turns on his desk lamp and sits down on the bed, emotions suddenly rushing back to him. He grabs his knees as he sits there, muscles tensed but shaking. He doesn’t make a sound but he watches as the tears drip between his legs and hit the floor. He tries to focus on the puddle they’re making, he tries to clear his mind and forget that his trip to Georgia ever happened, but the bag next to him keeps telling him otherwise.

Finally the tears stop again and he feels so utterly drained, but he’s oddly thankful for it. In this moment, he’d prefer to feel alone and empty then remember the pain he has to deal with. It stings to know that at the time he needs them most, all of his friends are completely absent, but he can’t blame them for having lives that don’t revolve around him.

He stands up shakily and starts to unpack the bag when he hears a noise behind him. He frowns and ignores it, figuring it must be the old house shifting. His whole body stiffens and he feels all of his nerves fire when there’s a knock at his door. He turns quickly and sees Kent Parson, leaning against the door frame and smiling. His heart starts to hammer and he wants to cry again. He’d already had enough for one day, he can’t do this, he just can’t deal with it.

“Kent,” he says through gritted teeth, “what are you doing here?”

Kent stumbles into the room and catches himself on Eric’s shoulders. Eric’s phone falls out of his hands as he squirms. He exhales in disgust when he smells alcohol on Kent’s breath.

“Well,” Kent slurs, “I came to find Jack, but I guess he isn’t here.”

“Yeah, he isn’t, so you should probably go.”

“Oh? Aren’t you happy to see me, Bitty?” Eric pushes Kent’s hand off his shoulders and takes a step back. His voice is forced casual, but Eric can sense the venom behind it.

“Far from it.”

Kent tsks at him and leans against Bitty’s desk. “I don’t know why you’re always so rude to me, Bittle. What have I ever done to you? Besides getting in the way of your pathetic little crush, that is.”

He feels his ears get hot and he’s fighting back more tears. “Get out of my room. I can’t do this with you right now.”

Eric reaches down to pick up his phone, but Kent stumbles toward him and wraps his arms around his shoulders. Bitty tries to push him off but Kent is strong.

“Bad day, Bittle?”

Eric’s whole body is screaming at him, he needs to get out, he isn’t safe.

“Kent, this isn’t a game anymore, you need to get out.” His voice shakes and Kent notices, because he smirks and loosens his grip a little.

“Nothing wrong with being a little nervous. I _am_ a big hockey star and all.”

Eric fruitlessly continues to try to push Kent off of him, his breaths short and shallow and every single inch of his body trying to get away. The smell of alcohol is strong with Kent breathing right in Eric’s face.

“You’re a joke,” Eric finds himself saying. “I can’t see how Jack could have ever loved someone like you.”

Kent’s grip loosens again and he scowls. “Well he did, and deep down he still does. He can’t get away from me, Eric. I’m like a virus that just keeps coming back.”

“So you admit it?”

“Of course I do, but not all viruses are bad. Or something.”

Eric is trying to slow down his heartbeat but Kent’s hands are dangerously close to his neck. He keeps talking.

“You’re disgusting. You’re manipulative and abusive and selfish, and every time Jack tries to move on, you have to come back into his life and ruin it. What’s wrong with you? What happened to you?”

Kent rolls his eyes. “What are you, some kind of therapist?”

“What happened to you that made you so fucked up, Kent?”

“Nothing happened, I just–”

“You’ve always known, haven't you?”

“I have no idea what you’re–”

“You’ve always known that you weren’t the one for him, even if he was the one for you. So you preyed on his weaknesses and kept forcing your way back to him to make sure he wouldn’t get away.”

“Stop, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kent says, his voice riddled with anger and hurt.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Eric responds. “You’re jealous of me, aren’t you? You’ve seen how happy I make him, you see the way he looks at me. He hasn’t looked at you like that in a long time.”

It was working. It was at least 50% bullshit that Eric was pulling out of nowhere, but Kent was pushing away from him, his jaw locked and his eyes glassy and bloodshot.

“You can’t accept the fact that you lose and I win, can you?”

Kent tries to say something, then shakes his head angrily.

“Leave, Kent. You need to leave, and you need to get help. And you need to leave _for good_ this time. Don’t come back again.” His voice is more confident now and Kent is still standing right in front of him but suddenly he seems so small and scared and hurt, and if he didn’t hate him so much, Eric might pity him.

He breathes a sigh of relief as Kent starts to turn around, then before he knows it a fist is connecting with his face.

The punch doesn’t land solidly. Kent’s hand glances off Eric’s cheek and it doesn’t hurt so much as it surprises him. Eric sucks in a sharp breath and stumbles backwards into the wall as Kent advances on him, using one arm to pin his chest and the other to grab at his hair. Kent pulls Eric’s head up so he’s forced to look in his eyes. Eric can’t move, he can’t even say anything. He’s frozen, mind flashing back to the altercation he had with Kent in the beginning of the summer.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you son of a bitch. You don’t fucking know me. You don’t fucking know Jack,” Kent yells. He releases Eric’s head and punches the wall next to him, a loud thud echoing in Eric’s ears.

The smell of alcohol is overpowering and Eric’s vision is distorted from the tears in his eyes.

“You gonna fucking cry now? Jack isn’t here to protect you this time,” Kent says through gritted teeth, punching the wall again. He winces and screams in frustration as he hits the wall too hard. He maintains the pressure on Eric’s chest but looks down at his hand, cursing under his breath.

“Kent,” Eric stammers, “please.”

“Please what?” Kent asks deviously, pressing his hand to the wall beside Eric’s head. “What do you want Eric?”

“Please,” he says again, because that’s all he can manage. His eyes are stinging from the force of Kent’s arm against his ribs. His scalp still stings from his hair being pulled violently.

“Oh, I think I know what you need,” Kent says. “You’re a fucking horny little twink, aren’t you? You want Jack? You want his dick?”

“Stop,” Eric pleads. Kent only presses him harder against the wall. He grabs Eric’s chin, again forcing his gaze upward. Kent’s eyes are terrifying. Void of color.

“I get it. Jack’s like a god compared to you. It’s only natural to want him like that. But…” Kent says slowly, “I guess since he’s not here, I’ll have to give it to you instead.” He licks his lips. Grins maliciously.

Eric feels like his heart’s stopped. He can see past Kent; his phone is sitting on the floor. If he could just somehow reach it. He wants to scream for help, wants to fight back. His body isn’t cooperating. His mind is all screams and white noise.

He cries out as Kent forcefully flips Eric around, pressing him against the wall. His knees buckle and Kent doesn’t have a good enough grip on him yet, so he falls backward against Kent. His body crumples to the floor. He wants to get up, but he can’t seem to make his limbs move. He feels the weight of Kent on top of him, grabbing his face and slapping him, muttering frantically. He isn’t really registering the sensations. When Kent pinned him to the wall, it was almost like he unhinged from reality.

Then the weight is gone, Kent isn’t on top of him anymore. He feels like he could be dying. Nothing really hurts, but he can taste tears in his mouth, hot and salty. He’s vaguely aware of what’s going on next to him in reality, someone is screaming. It’s Kent, no it isn’t Kent, it’s a different voice that Eric recognizes, and Jack’s face flashes into his mind and yes, it’s Jack. Jack is yelling. His voice is booming and commanding and terrifying and Eric isn’t registering anything that he’s saying but Jack is screaming at Kent, Jack, who is always so quiet and reserved and gentle. From what little Eric can see out of his already swelling eye, Jack is on top of Kent and he’s yelling at him and Kent is completely silent, shaking.

Eric can feel himself start to return realty; he starts to feel the pain again. Luckily, Kent was too drunk to do any real damage. His chest feels bruised, and the place on his cheek where Kent’s fist hit him is throbbing slightly. His head hurts, and he’s not sure if it’s from his hair being pulled or from hitting the floor.

The yelling from next to him stops and footsteps pound out of the room and down the hall, down the stairs and out of the house.

Strong arms slide beneath him and he flinches but Jack shushes him and carefully lays him on the bed. He’s gone for a second, then he’s back with a warm, wet towel and he’s wiping Eric’s face. Eric is completely still, his body refusing to make any attempts at movement. He hasn’t stopped crying. Jack is above him and his vision is returning, and his beautiful blue eyes are so clear. They’re wet. Jack is crying and muttering to himself, “He won’t hurt you anymore. He won’t hurt you anymore. He won’t hurt _us_ anymore,” and it sounds like he’s assuring himself as much as he is Eric. For some reason, Eric smiles at this and Jack frowns.

“Bitty,” he breathes.

“Hey,” Bitty replies hoarsely, finally back in control. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

 

After about 15 minutes, Eric is sitting up against pillows and Jack has already given him some Advil and tended to Bitty’s injuries. He had gotten extremely lucky; he’ll be a little bruised and banged up physically, but Kent was too emotional to know what he was really doing.

Eric is shaking, every muscle in his body wanting to run away. To hide. But he tries to relax, and he smiles as Jack sits down next to him on the edge of the bed. “Before you say whatever you need to say, let me go first?” Jack asks nervously.

Eric takes another sip of water, his mouth still dry and the taste of tears lingering. He nods.

“I, uh, I watched your vlogs this morning.”

Bitty’s eyes widen and he looks at Jack. “Oh,” he breathes, and again, “Oh.”

Jack laughs through his nose and smiles, but Bitty feels like the world is ending entirely. This isn’t how he wanted this conversation to go. Everything is wrong.

“Jack, I’m—oh lord, I’m so sorry.”

His smile quickly turns to a frown. “What are you apologizing for?”

He wasn’t even sure, so he sighs. “Well I guess you know now, but I...I kinda like you.”

Despite the situation, Jack is laughing now, _really_ laughing like Bitty’s never heard before, but he’s still crying, and Bitty is so confused.

He doesn’t understand what’s happening, so he says, “I get it, you don’t like me back. It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to, but I’d appreciate if you–”

“Stop. You really _don’t_ get it, though, do you?”

“I—what?”

Jack sighs and wipes the tears away from his eyes as he grabs Eric’s hand.

“Why do you do that to yourself?”

“Do what?” Eric is crying again because Jack is still being so confusing and now he’s holding Eric’s hand.

“Why can’t you just let people in? Why can’t you let yourself be loved?”

Eric stares at Jack for a second, his mouth slightly open.

“Bitty, you’re _it_ for me.”

He’s still staring and he’s still crying but his face completely shifts and Jack smiles gently. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means...” Jack thinks for a second, then replies with Bitty’s own words from earlier. “I guess it means that I kinda like you, too.”

Just like that, it feels like the entire world is tumbling down around him. He wasn’t prepared for this moment, and it’s nothing like he thought it would be. Jack is sitting there, wearing that fucking red shirt that hugs his body too tightly, his blue eyes sparkling in the light of the lamp.

“Wh—how, what, how long have you?” Bitty stutters.

“The kiss. Not even our kiss, your kiss with Shitty. It made me so jealous, and that was confusing because I haven’t felt jealous like that in so long and I didn’t understand. And then the panic attack happened and you were just _there_ , and I knew. This whole time, Bitty.” Jack is smiling and out of breath.

He feels a little betrayed, and a little angry, and extremely blindsided. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You kept pushing me away, Eric, and I couldn’t tell why. You didn’t want to let me in. And then I started thinking that maybe you had a thing for Shitty,” Jack admits.

“Shitty? What? No, he’s my friend, but I–”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Well I kept finding you two together. You were together in the reading nook, you made him breakfast, I found you in _bed_ together?”

Eric chuckles, he had a point there. Though this _is_ Shitty they’re talking about.

“Plus, when you were describing your first kiss and talking about how magical it was, I thought for sure you were talking about Shitty. I realize now that you were talking about–”

“Us. Our kiss. Yeah.” Eric’s mouth is so dry again and his hands are shaking and his pulse is racing. “You’re not messing with me? This whole time, you’ve felt the same way?”

Jack nods and chuckles. “I didn’t want to push you, and I wanted to be sure.”

Eric exhales and shakes his head. “So what now?”

“Now, this.”

Jack’s hand leaves Eric’s and moves to his face, his other hand on Eric’s shoulder as he leans in. Eric can feel his heart ready to jump right out of his mouth, his brain is going completely haywire but he closes his eyes as Jack’s lips touch his.

If he thought that kiss weeks ago was something special, he was wrong. He feels like every single cell in his body is on fire, he’s so warm and he could be flying. Jack is so strong but so gentle and his lips part slightly as they kiss, letting out little breathy moans. Eric’s hands are in Jack’s hair and his face isn’t in pain anymore, his whole body is aflame and Jack’s touch sets him off completely, like a match hitting a puddle of gas. The yearning, the suffering, the pain of the what-ifs. They don’t even matter anymore because Jack is here, and he’s kissing him, and all of that suffering was worth the price. Jack’s lips pull at Bitty’s hungrily as he gently caresses his face and Eric is pulling him in closer, wanting to be as close as he possibly can.

After what feels like an eternity, they pull apart and Eric opens his eyes again. The world now seems more vivid around him, Jack’s lips are slick and red and his eyes are dreamy and so, so blue and his dark hair is wild from Eric tugging at it. Jack smiles and leans in again, placing another chaste kiss on the corner of Eric’s mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against Eric’s skin, and Eric feels his flush deepen. He buries his head in the crook of Jack’s neck and throws his arms around his broad shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack repeats, and for the first time in his life Bitty believes it, _really_ believes. He’s beautiful, and Jack is beautiful, and _they_ are beautiful.

 

 _It's dangerous to fall in love_   
_But I wanna burn with you tonight,_   
_Hurt me_   
_There's two of us_   
_Bristling with desire_   
_The pleasure's pain and fire_   
_Burn me_

 _So come on_   
_I'll take you on, take you on_   
_I ache for love, ache for us_   
_Why don't you come_   
_Don't you come a little closer_   
_So come on now_   
_Strike the match, strike the match now_   
_We're a perfect match, perfect somehow_   
_We were meant for one another_   
_Come a little closer_

 _Flame you came to me_   
_Fire meet gasoline_   
_Fire meet gasoline_   
_I'm burning alive_   
_I can barely breathe_   
_When you're here loving me_   
_Fire meet gasoline_   
_Fire meet gasoline_   
_I got all I need_   
_When you came after me_   
_Fire meet gasoline_   
_I'm burning alive_   
_And I can barely breathe_   
_When you're here loving me_   
_Fire meet gasoline_   
_Burn with me tonight_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day because I've been writing this one in my head since the very beginning. I would like to say sorry not sorry for everything >:-) And to think, it only took them 17 chapters and a really bad day for Eric Bittle to make it happen!  
> Sorry this chapter is like twice the length of the rest of them, but I had a lot I needed to cover!
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia


	18. won't get out of my head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [90s Music by Kimbra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0yi8D15r7o)

Waking up in Jack’s arms is...odd. But not in a bad way, not in the slightest. It’s just strange how natural and familiar it feels, almost like Eric has been waking up in his arms for years. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so well-rested, despite the fact that he still feels traumatized from the night before. Everything from the previous day comes rushing back; his dad, Parse, the kiss. It feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. He gasps as his eyes flutter fully open and then start to fill up with tears.

 _Dammit Eric_ , he thinks to himself. _There’s no more room for tears._ It’s true, how can he really be crying when he’s waking up with Jack in his bed? Sure, there are still a lot of unanswered questions and things that need to be talked about, but they’ll have time for that. Eric relaxes and takes a deep breath. They have all the time in the world.

Except for the fact that Eric is supposed to be at work in 30 minutes. He goes to rub the sleep out of his eyes but forgets about the bruise on his cheek and curses under his breath as another wave of pain shoots through his face. From behind him, he hears low laughter and he winces as he flips over, coming face to face with Jack. His hair is messy and his eyes are still a little heavy from sleep, but the sun coming in through the gap in the blinds lights up his whole face. He’s smiling.

“Good morning.”

Bitty can’t help but smile. He bites his bottom lip and doesn’t respond, instead choosing to bury his head in Jack’s shoulder, fingers curling around the material of his red shirt. He inhales deeply, practically bathes his senses in Jack’s smell, just to assure himself that yeah, this is really happening. Despite how present and sturdy Jack is, Bitty is still having a hard time maintaining a grip on the reality.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.”

Jack laughs through his nose as he place a kiss on Eric’s head. “Understandable.”

“Jack, I really wanna stay in bed with you, but I–”

“No. I already know what you’re about to say. I called Holly last night and she doesn’t want you in until Monday.”

“ _Monday_?! Jack, that means I’m missing two more days on top of the three already!”

Jack blinks at him, a little taken aback. “You really think it’s a good idea to go to work after what happened last night Bitty? Your face looks...” Jack stops, not sure what to say.

Eric giggles, then forces his face into mock offense. “Are you saying I look ugly?”

“No of course not! I was just–”

“Jack, relax, it was a joke, honey.” The _honey_ slips out so naturally, dancing off of Eric’s tongue and sending away the worry in Jack’s eyes, replacing it with a more mild look of concern.

“Your left cheek looks really bruised.” It’s adorable how worried Jack is. “It looks like it hurts Eric, you haven’t even seen yourself yet. It’s scary. I was scared. Weren’t you?”

Eric nods. “I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t show up when you did. Where were you by the way? I tried to call you when my plane landed.” There isn’t anything accusing in his voice, and he finds that yeah, he really isn’t mad anymore. Just curious.

Jack grimaces. “I’m sorry, I missed my run yesterday morning, so I went for one last night, and I always turn my phone off so I don’t get distracted.”

“Oh. Well, anyway, I was definitely scared, there was...” he chokes on his words, embarrassed and afraid of how Jack might react to them.

“You can tell me,” Jack says, and his tone is so gentle and caring and suddenly Bitty does want to tell him, he wants to tell him everything, because he knows that somehow Jack will be able to make it better.

“Jack, I gave up. I just...froze. I couldn’t move at all, I couldn’t fight back, I… He didn’t even hit me that hard, but I think I blacked out? But Jack, I didn’t even try to fight him off.” He shudders. “Why couldn’t I fight him?” Eric asks himself. “I couldn’t fight my dad either, even though I was so angry. I was just too afraid…”

“Something happened? Bad?”

Eric nods. “I came out to my mom, and she took it okay, I guess, but,” he sighs. “My dad kicked me out of the house.”

Jack props himself up on his elbow, frowning. The look on his face is almost scary.

“Jack, it’s okay. It was yesterday morning, right before I was supposed to leave anyway.”

“And that makes it okay?” Disbelief colors Jack’s voice.

“No, it doesn’t, but it’s not like I slept on the streets. Mama felt real bad about it. She cried when she drove me to the airport.”

And suddenly his throat tightens and he’s sweating and his heart is beating so fast, and he feels like he can’t even speak. He hears his father in his ear, hissing “ _queer”,_ referring to Eric as _that_ , and those emotions flood back again.

“Oh lord, Jack, what am I gonna do?” he somehow manages to gasp as Jack pulls him close, one hand on his back and the other in his hair. “I don’t know if I can ever go back there...”

Jack shakes his head as he lightly massages Bitty’s trembling body, just sitting quietly for a few minutes until Eric can breathe again. When Jack is sure he’s okay again, he speaks. “Don’t think that way. It’s possible he’ll come around eventually, your mom may be able to convince him.”

Eric laughs sadly. “Shitty said the same thing before it happened, but y’all don’t know my father. The only person he answers to is himself, and occasionally God.”

“Still. He could change his mind. You’re his only son, he’s bound to get used to the idea at some point.”

Bitty shrugs and winces, his abdomen still tender and in pain. He lets his mind wander a bit as he rests in Jack’s arms, feeling secure and protected.

“Hey, Jack?” he asks quietly.

“Hmm?”

He pauses, reconsidering his question for a brief second, then asking it anyway. “What did you say to Kent last night?”

Jack takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. “Quite honestly, I can’t remember. My mind went blank. All I knew was that he was hurting you, so I just...Do you not remember either?”

“No, I think I must have been in some kind of...weird limbo between life and death or something.”

Jack’s mouth twitches into a small smile and Eric smacks his chest. “That wasn’t a joke!”

“I know, I’m sorry. You’re just so adorable. You make me smile. I’m sorry you were so scared, Bitty.”

Eric’s glad the sun is at his back and his face is in shadow, because he has a pretty good idea how red he must look. “So, I guess Kent is the only one who knows what was said then?”

“I doubt it. He was so drunk, he probably won’t remember most of it. I think he got the message though.”

Eric nods. “I hope so,” he murmurs, unable to mask the slight fear in his voice.

“Hey, look at me.” Jack gently tilts Bitty’s chin upwards so they’re looking directly into each other’s eyes. “He won’t hurt you anymore, I promise. I won’t let him.”

Eric’s heart melts completely. Here he is, spending a lazy morning in bed with the boy he’s been crushing on all summer, who is now promising to protect him from his vindictive ex. He can’t even conjure up the words to explain to Jack how he’s feeling, so instead he brushes a thumb over a cheekbone and presses a kiss to Jack’s lips. Jack lets out a cute little muffled grunt and pushes away.

“We haven’t brushed our teeth.”

Eric rolls his eyes as he kisses him again, smiling against the soft pink flesh of Jack’s lips. Jack smiles too, obviously not all _that_ worried about their early morning hygiene. Eric reluctantly pulls away, his heart fluttering excitedly in his chest.

“How can I be sure this isn’t a dream?” Bitty finds himself asking.

Jack responds, “I don’t think things this good can happen, not even in dreams.”

After about an hour, Jack’s stomach starts making noises Eric hasn’t ever heard before, which he takes as a hint that they need some breakfast.

“Bitty, when Lardo and Shitty see you they’re gonna be really concerned. Like I said, it looks pretty bad. So just be ready for them to go into full protection mode.”

“What am I gonna tell them?”

“The truth. There’s no point in hiding it Eric, they’ll find out somehow eventually,” Jack says, then adds a little wistfully, “They always do.”

Eric is about to get out of bed when there’s a knock at his door. Lardo’s voice comes from the other side. “Bits? Can I come in?”

Bitty glances quickly at Jack, who smiles and nods. The blond clears his throat and says, “Yeah, come in!”

The door opens slowly and Lardo steps into the room, already dressed and with two cups of coffee in her hands. She smiles in their direction but she almost drops the mugs when she sees Bitty’s face. She hastily places them on the desk and sits down on the bed.

“Holy fuck...What did I miss last night?”

Eric opens his mouth to respond, then sighs. “It’s a long story, why don’t I tell it over breakfast?”

 

Once everybody has pancakes and bacon on their plates, Eric sits down carefully. He feels awkward with all eyes on him, but Jack’s reassuring smile encourages him.

“So I guess I’ll start from the beginning?”

“A wise choice,” Shitty quips. Lardo shoots a glare at him and he places a hand in front of his mouth.

“Not the time Shits.”

Bitty smiles and Shitty catches his eye, smiling slightly then straightening out his face as he looks to Lardo again.

Eric tells his friends the entire story, starting with the drive from the airport to his house with his mom. He briefly goes over the dinner, and the walk, and the interactions with neighbors, then talks about breakfast the previous day and his dad’s reactions. He retells the conversation word for word. He remembers every single damn thing his father had said to him like it’s been burned into the backs of his eyelids.

Then he skips right to coming home and Kent somehow making his way inside the house—”By the way y’all, we need to move that key to a new hiding place. He knew where it was, that’s how he got in. And maybe we should change the locks.”

He remembers the conversation with Kent almost verbatim and he can look only at his hands as he recalls some of the things he said to Kent, suddenly not able to meet Jack’s eyes.

He jokingly plays up the fact that Jack essentially swooped in and saved him like a knight in shining armor, and Jack blushes, assuring Shitty and Lardo that it wasn’t that big a deal. They disagree of course. Bitty finishes the story by very vaguely telling about his morning with Jack, then picks up a piece of bacon and takes a small bite.

“Fuck, Bits,” Lardo breathes.

Shitty is uncharacteristically quiet for a second, then jumps out of his chair and slams the table, startling everyone and causing some coffee to slosh onto the surface.

“I told you I’d fly down and fucking beat his ass, and now I’m really about to. Kent Parson too, he deserves so much worse than what I can even do to him, but I swear Bitty I’m gonna hunt him down and fucking–”

“Shitty, stop it. It’s done. If you do that, you just continue this damn cycle. He’s gonna stay away now, Jack and I are certain of that.”

“Okay, fine, there’s that, but your dad–”

“Is a dick,” Lardo interjects. Eric frowns at her and she cocks her head slightly, her eyebrow raised. “Are you honestly gonna try to defend him? I know he’s still your dad, but he fucking kicked you out of the house, Bits.”

“Yeah and he just _had_ to use slurs. Shit isn’t right, Bitty. I don’t care if he’s a conservative Southerner or whatever, you’re his fucking _son_.”

Shitty shakes his head angrily as he sits down. Lardo entwines the fingers of one hand with his and gives him a meaningful look.

“You can’t blame me for getting mad, Lards.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m angry, too.”

Shitty looks back to Eric and exhales forcefully. “Jesus _fuck,_ Bitty...so are you okay? I know I ask you that a lot, but I really mean it this time, like are you good?”

Bitty and Jack make eye contact now and Bitty nods. “Yeah, I’m gonna be okay.” And he really means it this time too.

The four of them sit quietly for a few minutes, eating their breakfast and sipping on coffee. The windows are open and the kitchen smells like morning time and every time Bitty looks at Jack his ears get all hot and his chest gets all fuzzy but he can’t stop looking at him, just seeing him in a completely different light now. They still have so much they needed to talk about, but Bitty doesn't feel stressed about it. It isn’t something they can skip over, but it isn’t exactly urgent either, so he allows himself to relax and just _be_ for a little while.

Everybody is done with breakfast, so Eric happily starts to gather up the plates and silverware. Smiling hurts his face honestly, but he can’t fucking _stop_ smiling so he tries to put the pain out of his mind. Jack makes an attempt to get Bitty to sit down and not worry about clearing the table, but of course Eric refuses. Shitty and Lardo leave the kitchen and Eric and Jack are alone again. The sounds of the morning drift through the room from outside and Bitty is humming gently, washing the dishes and dancing around casually despite the pain in his abdomen. His breath catches in his throat when Jack’s arms are suddenly around his waist and he almost drops a plate.

He can feel Jack smiling into his hair as Eric pretends to ignore him and continues with the dishes, raising the volume of his humming slightly to increase the effectiveness. Jack squeezes his sides lightly and his humming turns into a squeal. He sets the plate down and turns around in Jack’s arms, looking up at him.

“I’m never gonna get any work done around here again, am I?”

“Not if I can help it.”

His voice is low and affectionate and Eric reaches up to drape his arms around Jack’s shoulders. He presses up onto his toes, appreciative of the cool current of air flowing through the kitchen because he’s suddenly very hot. He smiles and kisses Jack, the taste of coffee still on his lips. Jack pulls him in closer, his arms tightening around Bitty’s thin waist. The smaller boy feels weak at the knees, thankful for the strong, supportive arms around his body and Jack’s ability to hold his weight up.

There’s a commotion from the foyer, then:

“Hey guys, I know we said we wouldn’t be back until—whoa, what the fuck!?”

It isn’t an instant separation. Eric groans against Jack’s lips, recognizes Ransom’s voice from the kitchen doorway and rests back onto his heels, peeking around Jack’s body.

Ransom’s eyes are wide and Holster is just coming in, carrying two suitcases.

“Uh, surprise?” Jack says, his voice slightly annoyed and a little breathless. Eric giggles and quickly gets up on his toes again, planting a quick kiss on Jack’s cheek before turning to the new arrivals.

“Welcome back y’all! You’ve been missed.”

“And we’ve obviously missed a lot,” Holster replies.

“Yeah, since when were you two...?” Ransom asks, gesturing vaguely.

Jack blushes and looks at the floor. “Well,” Eric says, “I guess you could say it’s a fairly new development.”

“And your face?” Holster inquires as he sets down the suitcases.

Eric sighs and looks at Jack, indicating with his eyes that he really doesn’t feel like telling this story again. Jack nods and ushers Ransom and Holster out of the room, grabbing their suitcases and bringing them upstairs as he starts to fill them in. Bitty smiles to himself and turns back to the sink, turning the water back on and letting the warm liquid run over his hands for a few seconds, the smell of soap strong and calming.

“Bits?”

He looks over his shoulder as Lardo cautiously comes into the kitchen, glancing behind her.

“Ransom told me they wouldn’t be here until next week, but I guess it doesn’t really matter,” she sighs as she sits down at the table, turning the chair so she can face Eric as he works.

“So what are you thinking, Bits? I mean besides all of the drama and shit. I know there’s a lot of emotions and stuff flying around but once it all calms down, what happens next? You know, with you and Jack, I mean...”

Bitty shrugs as he finishes the dishes, wiping his hands on a towel and sitting next to her. “I really don't know. I’ve never done this before, and I thought it would be scary, but Jack makes me feel safe. I was scared that if anything did happen I’d be so focused on goofing everything up, but that thought hasn’t even crossed my mind really. I’m not really sure what’s next, Lards. I think it’s just a matter of taking things a step at a time.”

She nods and smiles, grabbing his hand. “I’m happy for you, dude. Jack is a good guy, and you bring out a side of him that we never really get to see. He just seems so happy.”

Eric squeezes her hand in return and smiles back.

“Okay, so now you have to give me deets. How did it all go down? What was the conversation like? Shitty and I have been dying to know,” she says, laughing a little bit at herself. “I don’t usually get this way about other people’s relationships, but you and Jack are...I don’t know. It’s different. I get this good vibe from you two.”

Eric giggles, hearing some noises from upstairs. He realizes that Shitty may not have to give up his room for Ransom and Holster this time around...He’ll have to talk to Jack about it.

“Well, I mean you got everything about what happened with Parse.” She groans and nods. “Uh, after that he kinda propped me up on my bed and made sure I was okay at first. We didn’t talk for a little while actually, we just kinda sat there. Then I was about to confess everything but he wanted to go first. Apparently he went and found my vlogs, something I never anticipated when I made them. And I was real confused at first, I almost thought he was making fun of me or something. Then he said that he likes me too–” A huge smile invades Eric’s face and he has to stop talking to bury his head in his arms.

Lardo casually plays with his hair and chuckles, waiting a few moments before coaxing more out of him. “And _then_?”

He takes a breath and sits back up, his cheeks burning. “It was sorta funny actually. I got all mad and asked him why he didn’t say something sooner, and he said that he wasn’t sure that I felt the same way. He also thought that I might have a crush on Shitty.”

Lardo snorts. Eric gestures like _what are ya gonna do?_

“And he just kept saying all these real sweet things. It was sorta overwhelming actually, and really eye-opening. And then he kissed me. _Those_ details aren’t public knowledge,” Bitty says with a wink.

Lardo rolls her eyes and exhales, sitting back in her chair. “I really wasn’t sure where things were gonna go with you two, he’s always been so hard to read. Now though...It just kinda makes sense to me. I think you were meant for one another.”

Bitty shrugs but grins, fighting the urge to chirp Lardo for being so sappy. “So how are things between you and Shitty?”

Her eyes shift, now they’re so calm and gentle and free of worry. “Things are fucking _nice_ honestly. I think this was supposed to happen a while ago, but both of us are huge fucking nerds when it comes to emotions and shit. It’s whatever, I’m not gonna dwell on what could have been, I’m just happy with the way things are now.”

“Yeah, me too...”

Bitty makes a huge dinner that night, mainly because when he’s happy food just sort of appears, but also because there are two more mouths to feed, and those mouths belong to the bottomless pits that are Ransom and Holster. He makes four different homemade pizzas, each with different toppings. Everybody chirps Jack when he asks if Bitty can put pineapple on one of them, which confuses Jack because he’s never thought of that as strange. Bitty teases Jack along with the rest of his friends just to see him blush, but Jack teases him right back when he later catches Bitty swiping a piece.

They decide to eat in the backyard on a big blanket, and Eric is instantly reminded of the Fourth of July. A wave of nostalgia quickly comes and goes as he remembers the fireworks going off in the backyard and looking up to see Jack standing in the window, so closed off and lonely. Now things are so different. Jack is leaning back on his hands behind him and his legs outstretched, looking casual and content. Bitty sits cross legged next to him, their hands so close to touching but not quite. Eric is afraid, honestly, that if his skin even brushes Jack’s, he won’t be able to stop himself from touching more. He’d never known that something as simple as contact could be so electrifying and addicting.

Everybody leaves the pineapple pizza to Jack while they go after a regular cheese, a pepperoni, and one with a variety of different meats as requested by Shitty. To be an ass, Eric makes pineapple upside down cake for dessert.

He sits for a second, looking at the people around him and trying to take a mental picture of the moment. The sun is low in the sky, his friends are sitting around talking and eating his cooking and enjoying a typical summer night.

Eric again insists on taking care of the dishes, carefully balancing them all and leaving them in the sink. He can wash them later; the sun would soon be gone, but the dishes aren’t going anywhere. He takes a second in the kitchen to contain himself, a giddy smile plastered on his face. He can feel his wounds already healing, the bruise on his cheek already fading. He’s about to go back outside and join his friends when he hears the glass door slide open.

He turns around, and Jack is closing it, a small smile playing on his usually-stoic face.

“Hi,” Eric says quietly.

“Hi,” Jack replies, his smile growing.

“So I was thinking...” Eric begins cautiously. Jack cocks an eyebrow and moves a little closer into the kitchen, leaning against a chair.

“I don’t think it’s fair that Shitty should have to sleep on the couch. Now that Ransom and Holster are here, you know? He always says that he really doesn’t mind, but I feel guilty about it.” Eric bites his bottom lip, trying to appear casual.

What he’s suggesting registers in Jack’s eyes. The older boy straightens up. “Guilty, eh?”

Eric nods as innocently as possible. “Yeah. It’s not the most comfortable couch.”

Jack huffs, obviously amused. “Well,” he says slowly, “I suppose we could always share a room.”

Bitty’s eyes light up and his cheeks flush. “I suppose we could.”

Jack nods. “You’d sleep on the floor, of course.” And he says it so seriously that for a second, Eric can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

After a second when his eyes sparkle and his mouth twitches into a smile, Eric lets out a giggle and crosses the kitchen. “I did my time, mister, if anyone’s on the floor, it’s you!”

“Or we could just both sleep in the bed.” Obviously both boys had been joking, purposely dragging the conversation and heading to the same conclusion, but now that Jack has said it out loud Eric can feel his heartbeat pick up. He’s much closer to Jack now and he can see that Jack’s blue eyes are dark, almost dangerous. They had shared a bed the previous night but that hadn’t been planned, they’d just both happened to fall asleep. The prospect of actively, consciously sharing a bed with this boy makes the back of Eric’s neck tingle and dries his mouth completely. He licks his lips, trying to bring some kind of moisture to them.

“Yeah, that could work too.” He bites his lip again, this time not consciously, and Jack takes another step toward him until they’re in the same space, both breathing a little heavily in the humid evening. It’s all so new to Eric, and everything seems to be happening really fast, but he’s too happy to care. He’s not going to overthink this, not anymore, not now that things are finally going the right way.

Jack cups his face with one hand, closing his eyes and leaning down to press his lips against Eric’s, warm and sure. Eric’s right hand finds its way to Jack’s forearm and latches on as his other arm wraps around Jack’s back. Kissing him is almost disorienting, the way Jack’s lips tug gently at his, the way his nose hits Jack’s cheekbone and the way their teeth clack together accidentally when they both find that they’re smiling. Eric is holding on for dear life, and as long as he’s holding onto Jack nothing else matters.

Eric pulls away reluctantly, again licking his lips. “I’m, uh, never gonna get tired of that.”

Jack chuckles and nods in agreement, resting an arm on Eric’s shoulder as they turn to go back outside.

“Hey Shitty, would you mind moving your car for me?” Jack asks as the sun finally descends below the horizon, the moon half-full and shining in the sky.

“Uh, what? Why?”

Jack is about to respond when Shitty’s eyes go wide and he gasps dramatically. “No fucking way dude, are you breaking out the old trash-mobile?”

Jack covers his face with his hands and Lardo laughs so hard that she starts to wheeze. “Fuck, I’d forgotten that you call it that.” Ransom and Holster are laughing too, and they start to reminisce with Lardo about whatever this ‘trash-mobile’ is as Shitty starts to get up.

“What’s the trash-mobile?” Eric asks to nobody in particular, completely lost.

“You’ll see,” Jack says. “Personally I’ve never liked the name, but Shitty insists...”

Shitty runs inside to grab his keys as Eric and Jack follow. “Jack, where are we going anyway?”

All he gets is a shrug in return.

After a few minutes Shitty runs back into the house, grinning wildly. “Bits, you’re gonna love this old piece of shit. The trash-mobile is fucking classic.”

Jack rolls his eyes and Eric chuckles, still thoroughly confused.

“Alright then, you two crazy kids have fun now!” Shitty says in a terrible, overblown Southern accent. “Be back by eleven!”

“If we come back at all,” Jack jokes.

When Eric sees the truck in the garage, trash-mobile really is the first thing that comes to mind. It looks ancient and the paint is scratched and worn. The bed of the truck is completely empty, save for a thick layer of dust and dirt, and the vehicle only seats two (although Jack assures Eric that at least three can fit). There’s an almost overwhelming smell of gasoline.

It takes Jack a good three minutes to get the damn thing started, the engine sputtering and coughing but not quite turning over. His face stays calm and focused but the way he’s violently turning the key in the ignition tells a different story.

“Jack, honey, we can always take Shitty’s car if–”

The car roars to life before he can finish. Jack smiles triumphantly and puts his seatbelt on, looking eagerly at Eric, who’s smiling endearingly.

“Where to?” Jack asks.

“I asked _you_ that question!”

“Okay then, we’ll just drive.”

Jack carefully pulls out of the garage and into the street, taking off to God knows where. Eric rolls his window down, the breeze whipping his hair away from his face. Jack does the same and then goes on to explain how the trash-mobile came to be.

After his injury, when he decided he wanted to come live with Shitty and Lardo, his parents insisted that they at least get him a car first. He wasn’t really sure why, and he wasn’t sure if even _they_ knew why. It felt more like they just wanted to do _something_ for him. He tried to explain to them that he really wouldn’t need it, but they wouldn’t hear any of it. He realized he couldn’t win the battle and his parents told him that he could essentially pick any car he wanted. Well, he was getting pretty damn tired of living in the shadow of his rich and famous parents, so he went out and found the oldest and junkiest car he possibly could. It was a pride thing, or something.

Shitty and Lardo had chirped him endlessly for it, saying that if they could get literally any car they wanted they would have taken advantage of it. Regardless, the truck was a staple in the group’s friendship for a while, because this was before Shitty had his car. Jack never really drove it, considering his leg injury and all, but he had heard countless stories of Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster somehow all fitting in the front compartment and going for night drives.

Eric finds himself laughing as Jack tells the story, his voice monotone as ever but still so gentle and calming, somehow full of life. Jack smiles when he finishes because Eric is still giggling boisterously and the sound is infectious.

“Hey Bitty, could you grab my phone from my pocket?”

Eric raises an eyebrow. “Can’t you get it yourself?”

“I’m driving,” Jack responds seriously and Eric laughs again, rolling his eyes as he reaches into Jack’s pocket.

“This is just an elaborate scheme to get my hand in your pants, isn’t it?”

Jack laughs quietly then says, “Okay, now can you plug it into that cord there?”

Eric looks at the dashboard and sees that there’s a cord coming out of the spot where, sweet Jesus, a _cassette tape_ would go.

“What kind of ancient aux cord?” he mutters to himself as he find the end of the cord and plugs it into the phone. “Now what?”

Jack frowns. “Don’t remember. I read instructions online.”

“About what?”

“How to play music in the car from my phone.”

Eric laughs so hard that tears roll down his face as Jack frowns at him defensively. “What’s so funny?”

Eric wipes his eyes and tries to breathe. “It’s-it’s nothing honey, you’re just damn cute is all. Don’t worry, I got it.” Eric pulls up the music app on Jack’s phone as Jack explains further.

“So I still have your old laptop. All of the files and stuff are on your new one of course, but everything else was still there. I saw that iTunes is installed, and I’ve never used it before but I messed around with it a little bit and I managed to get a playlist on my phone!” He smiles proudly and Bitty scowls at the phone when he sees the name of the playlist. He doesn’t say anything and instead hits shuffle.

They both jump as Emotions by Mariah Carey suddenly blasts through the beat up speakers. Eric hastily turns the volume down slightly and laughs at how bad the sound quality is.

“So why a playlist of just music from the 90s?”

Jack shrugs. “I thought it was interesting, and I thought you might like it!”

Eric doesn’t necessarily _dislike_ 90s music, but he prefers more recent stuff. He doesn’t object though because Jack seems content as they drive around the neighborhood, going down roads that Bitty hasn’t ever seen before and blasting Mariah Carey.

 _I've been driving round in my car_ _  
_ _Rolled down the window beside ya_ _  
_ _Blaring out loud of the broken speaker_   
_(Everyday be listening to 90s music)_

Before the song ends, Bitty has a realization. “Hey, isn’t your birthday next Wednesday?”

“Oh. Yeah, it is. I’d forgotten.”

“You forgot your own birthday?”

“Well we already celebrated it, so it didn’t feel important.”

“Of course it’s important! Your birthday is supposed to be the best day of the year, the one day where it’s all about you!”

“Isn’t every day?”

Eric laughs and hits Jack on the shoulder. There’s something about Jack’s short, dry quips that take the breath right out of Eric’s lungs.

“I’m going up to Montreal on Tuesday. I’d forgotten about that too.”

“Oh! That’ll be fun! You’ll get to spend it with your parents at home! We’ll all have to do something before you leave though, celebrating with your friends is important too. Ooh, I could make a big cake, or some of that pie maybe, or I guess I could do both if you want, and–”

“I want you to come with me,” Jack says confidently, his eyes locked on the road.

Bitty stops talking immediately, the last words of his previous sentence still lingering on his lips. He turns the music all the way down. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Bitty, I want you to come with me.” This time he glances over at Eric quickly.

It’s like Jack ripped the rug out from under Eric’s feet. The cool wind is still rushing past his face and the headlights of the truck are cutting through the darkness in front of them, but Eric sort of feels like everything is spinning.

“You want me to come with you to Montreal? To your parents’ place?”

“Yeah, but only if you want,” Jack adds quickly.

“Jack, I—I mean I’d love to, but we haven’t even been on a first date yet!”

“Not true.”

“What?”

“Eric, you took me to the bakery, then to the beach, then out to Samwell to skate at Faber. I don’t care if we were both still hiding things, that was a date. It was three dates, really.”

Eric gapes a little, still trying to wrap his mind around the question.

“You don’t have to come, I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you. I want you to be comfortable. My parents are dying to meet you, though.”

“Your parents know about me?”

“Yeah, I’ve told them everything. I called them earlier today actually, and they’d love for their first meeting with you to be in person. But like I said, I don’t want you to feel weird or anything.”

“Jack,” Eric breathes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

“Really? You’re sure? If you change your mind I won’t be angry.”

The feeling of novelty regarding Jack is almost completely gone, but in a good way. Eric feels at ease, he feels comfortable, he feels like they’ve been in this truck driving for years, and the prospect of going to Canada with Jack doesn’t seem scary now.

“No, I want to come. Do you think Holly will be mad that I’m missing more work?”

“You can do no wrong in that woman’s eyes,” Jack laughs. “I’ll talk to her, okay? She’ll understand. It’s only a few days, we’ll be back Friday night and you can go in on Saturday if you really want to. You have a passport right?”

“Yeah, I do. Okay. Wow.” The world around them is quiet except for the air whistling past and the sound of the tires on the road. Eric absentmindedly picks at the cracked leather between his legs, Mariah Carey still playing in the back of his mind. He can relate to the lyrics of Emotions very well in this moment, especially Mariah’s iconic whistle tone riff at the end of the bridge. Being with Jack somehow feels exactly like that.

His heart leaps when he remembers that even once they get back to the house, Jack is going to be sleeping in his bed again. He smiles over at Jack, whose eyes are a little droopy as he stares at the road.

“It’s getting late, we should probably head back.” Eric murmurs. Jack nods and yawns. “Soon,” he almost whispers in reply. Then after a few quiet minutes, he adds, “I like driving with you Bitty. It feels so private but...the whole world is still right there in front of us.”

“Yeah, it is,” Eric replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest time interval between chapters so far, which is funny because it's only been like 6 days! I wanted to let chapter 17 kinda settle I guess, and then I wanted to make sure I really did a good job with what follows it so I hope I did indeed do that.  
> This fic has gone so many different directions than I originally intended it to but I think it's gonna end up working our better really. Thanks so much for all of the positive feedback so far, it's made it such a pleasure to keep writing this!! :D Enjoy <3
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia  
> 18\. 90s Music // Kimbra


	19. i wanna be there with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Run Away With Me by Carly Rae Jepsen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeccAtqd5K8)

“Eric, stop fidgeting.”

Bitty shoots him a quick glare before making an attempt to find a comfortable position. They’ve only been sitting on the plane for five minutes but Eric is already squirming with excitement and anxiety. The last time he’d been on a plane was only a week ago, after his father had essentially banished him.

An older man who smells vaguely like weed has taken the aisle seat, so the next best thing is the window. Jack lets Bitty have it, no questions asked, but still next to the window Bitty feels cramped and uncomfortable. Jack is surprisingly calm, even though he’s stuck between a high grandpa and his antsy boyfriend.

When that word flashes across Eric’s mind, he starts to feel more at ease. They had discussed it the day after the incident with Parse, both deciding it would be good to decide on a label for the relationship so they were on the same page. Bitty wasn’t really sure where to go with that conversation, but then of course Jack had to go and ask Eric to be his boyfriend. Eric had laughed and then cried a little bit (though he definitely claimed that the tears were from the laughing) and then agreed. So for the first time in his life, Eric Bittle has a boyfriend, and he’s on his way to said boyfriend’s summer home in Canada.

He’d always wondered how it would feel, what he would look like, the way everything would happen, but none of it is even close to his reality now. First of all, he’d never thought he’d fall for a large Canadian hockey player, and he _especially_ never thought that the boy would ever return those feelings. But he also had never realized how lonely he had been before. Sure, once he moved into the house, he’d finally made some really good friends and started learning how to open up to people, but there was still this loneliness that pervaded the new environment. That loneliness is gone now.

Then there’s the level of trust. They can tell each other anything, _everything_ , and that’s a little strange. He isn’t sure if that’s common in relationships, especially ones that are so new, but he’s already told Jack a few things that only a few—if any—people know. Eric doesn’t have to feel weird about telling Jack his plane seat preferences, because Jack just understands and it’s such a relief for Bitty to have someone accept him, quirks and all.

By the time the plane takes off, Bitty is nice and relaxed. He’s a little cold, so Jack offers him a hoodie. Instead of putting it on he just drapes it over his lap. Jack bumps his shoulder as he puts on his seatbelt and Eric smiles. Touch is such an important part of everything in their relationship so far. When words don’t do the job, touch can do so much. Especially now that they’re sleeping in the same bed, Bitty already feels much closer to Jack on every level.

Eric shivers as the plane starts to move on the tarmac and Jack casually grabs his hand, ignoring the scowl from the man next to them.

“The flight is only a little over an hour. I wish I had another hoodie to give you.”

Eric giggles and shakes his head. “I’m fine, it’s just gonna take me a second to get accustomed.”

Something Jack is starting to learn is how differently Bitty reacts to temperature. What Jack may consider a nice, warm night might be a cold one in Bitty’s book. And Montreal is fairly warm in the summer, but it’s certainly no Georgia.

Finally, the plane is in the air. Eric holds his breath as they ascend rapidly and doesn’t let it out until the plane has leveled out. He looks at his phone (which he most certainly turned on airplane mode, Miss Rude Stewardess), and sees that it’s only 7 AM.

He yawns, then asks, “Why did we have to take such an early flight?”

“It’s not _that_ early. Plus, I wanted as much time there as possible. Our flight Thursday is in the evening, so we have almost three full days this way.”

His voice is quiet and slightly monotone, almost mimicking the rumble of the plane shooting through the atmosphere. Even so, Bitty can pick out the excitement that’s hiding underneath, especially when Jack looks at him. His eyes are practically glowing and a small smile creeps onto his face. He’s wearing his red shirt, the one he wears so often that Bitty contemplates checking his closet to see if there are more than one–or any other clothes for that matter–but the shirt makes his eye color pop and his dark hair stand out, and the way it hugs his body makes Bitty’s heart race, so maybe he shouldn’t question it.

Eric yawns again, eliciting a quiet chuckle from Jack. “You should sleep.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna leave you awake and alone, especially not with Mr. Jane sitting next to you,” Eric mutters, only loud enough for Jack to hear.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

And with that, Eric loses control of his eyelids anyway.

He wakes to Jack gently prodding his shoulder, smiling. Eric’s head is on his shoulder and he can feel that his hair is a little disheveled, which is so not fair considering how much time he spent that morning trying to tame it.

“We just landed. Welcome to Canada.”

Bitty yawns and stretches, then puts his head back on Jack’s shoulder.

“Five more minutes, Jack,” he whispers, nestling into his boyfriend’s body.

Jack chuckles and runs a hand through Eric’s hair, making an attempt to fix it.

“I don’t think so, we have things to do. My parents are excited. That reminds me, they wanted me to text when we landed.”

Eric pouts and groans as Jack reaches into his pocket, shifting too much to be a desirable pillow anymore. He grumbles quietly as Jack glances at him then quickly types a message to his parents. People around them are starting to stand up and gather their belongings, but Bitty really just doesn’t want to move. To say that he’s nervous about meeting Jack’s parents would be a bit of an understatement; he’s practically shaking. Besides that, the fact that they’re picking the boys up at the airport and driving them to the house is a little reminiscent of Eric’s trip to Georgia, something he’s been trying to put out of his mind for the last week. Why should he dwell on negativity when he’s in Canada with Jack?

Jack nudges his shoulder and gestures for him to stand up. Bitty does so, containing a sigh and grabbing his singular carry-on from under his seat. He hands Jack his hoodie but Jack pushes it back into his hands.

“Keep it for now. It’s still early so it’s probably a little chilly. And the weather said there might be some wind.”

“But what about you?”

Jack shrugs. “I’ll be fine, I have plenty of clothes at the cabin.”

Eric isn’t exactly sure what to expect when he hears Jack call the house a ‘cabin’. He isn’t sure what to expect at all, actually. He knows fairly little about Jack’s family, just that his father used to play hockey professionally and his mother is an actress and a model, which is extremely intimidating. Both of his boyfriend’s parents are celebrities, and it isn’t until now that he realizes that Jack is probably swimming in money. It explains the laptop, for one thing, but Eric starts to wonder why he’s living in that shitty little white house instead of some fancy apartment somewhere. Maybe it’s along the same lines of his truck. It’s a pride thing.

Because they’re close to the back, it takes a little bit of time to get off the plane. Bitty keeps pulling at the straps of his backpack absently as they inch down the aisle, occasionally raising a hand to his mouth to chew at his nails. Jack is standing behind him, one hand on Bitty’s shoulder and the other holding his duffel bag.

They finally make it into the airport and it takes all of Bitty’s strength not to grab Jack’s hand. Besides earlier this morning, they haven’t been anywhere nearly this public and crowded before, so Bitty isn’t sure how okay Jack will be with PDA.

Eric is just a step behind Jack, smiling as he watches the older boy awkwardly navigate the crowd, obviously with a knowledge of where he’s going but an endearing way of getting there. Any time he bumps into somebody he apologizes, most of the people gone and out of sight before the words leave his lips. Bitty thinks it’s adorable.

Finally, Bitty notices that Jack’s pace picks up. He looks ahead of them and sees a couple standing near the doors of the airport, and it’s so obvious that they’re Jack’s parents. First of all, Jack looks exactly like his father. The facial structure, the hair, the body shape. It’s uncanny. However, even from a distance, Eric can see that it’s Jack’s _mom_ who he inherited his brilliant blue eyes from. Her eyes pop against her shortish blonde hair and she casually waves to Jack, who awkwardly raises a hand in response as the boys approach.

Jack hugs his father first, Bob clapping his son’s back and grabbing his face as they separate. “Hi, Papa,” Jack says with a fond smile.

His mother then swoops in, pulling him into a hug and beckoning downward as they part. He rolls his eyes and gives her a fond, familiar laugh, then bends down slightly so she can kiss his forehead. Eric is standing back awkwardly, when Jack’s father catches his eye.

“So this must be Eric! It’s nice to finally meet you son,” he says as he steps forward, grabbing Eric’s hand and shaking it enthusiastically.

Eric smiles and replies, “Nice to meet you Mr. Zimmermann!” It’s a little strange saying that, considering ‘Mr. Zimmermann’ is something he calls Jack fairly frequently.

“Eh, don’t do that, call me Bob!” he says as he releases Eric’s hand, beaming. Bob doesn’t make any comments about the strength of Eric’s handshake.

Alicia steps forward, too, extending her own hand. “Hi Eric, I’m Alicia. Jack has told me so much about you!” She turns to Jack. “You were right Jackie, he _is_ adorable!”

“ _Maman_ ,” Jack says, whining just slightly as his cheeks flush. Eric can feel his own face getting a little hot too.

“Damn right,” Bob continues. “Those big brown eyes have probably melted some hearts, eh Eric?”

Eric chuckles and shakes his head. “Only one that I know of,” he replies as he automatically looks at Jack. Jack catches it and the color in his cheeks depends as Bob laughs boisterously.

“Jack has already told us so much about you, but it’ll be so nice to really get to know you!” Alicia says as she clasps her hands together. “So we’d better get going. The sooner we get to the cabin, the more time we have!” She smiles and pats Eric on the cheek, doing the same to Jack before slipping her arm through her husband’s.

They exit the airport ahead of Jack and Bitty, both a little dazed. Eric wonders, _How was Jack, so quiet and stoic, the product of these two outgoing and boisterous people?_

Eric is aware that Jack had told his parents about him, but he isn’t really sure how much they know. He laughs and readjusts the backpack on his shoulders as he follows Alicia’s example by linking arms with Jack—whose face is still a vibrant shade of pink—and pulls him out of the airport.

Jack groans as they approach the road outside. Eric’s eyes widen when he sees that Jack’s parents are standing in front of a sleek black Lexus.

“Papa, did you really have to drive in this one?”

“What?” His father says defensively. “It’s comfortable, and I wanted Eric to feel welcome!” He smiles at Bitty before opening the door for his wife and then circling around to the other side of the car. Jack mutters something that sounds almost like an apology before opening the back door and hastily climbing into the car, Eric right behind him.

“If traffic is okay the drive shouldn’t be too long!” Alicia says as she looks into the back seat. “Jack, make sure you put that seatbelt on,” she warns gently, motherly, smiling when she sees that Bitty already has his on.

“Alright kids, ready?” Bob asks, adjusting the rearview mirror just slightly.

“Yes,” Jack sighs, resting his chin on his hand. Bitty chuckles sympathetically and rubs Jack’s shoulder, earning himself a small smile of gratitude.

The drive doesn’t feel long at all, especially when Alicia asks if Eric wants the radio on. Eric looks at Jack, who shrugs indifferently, then tells her yes. It’s definitely going to take him a little bit of time to get used to being treated like such an honored guest.

The first station she turns on is playing Blank Space by Taylor Swift.

“Ooh, I love this song,” Bob says. Eric giggles as Jack’s father starts to sing along, and wow, he really knows all of the lyrics. His voice isn’t bad either. Bitty wonders if Jack can sing...

Alicia is casually moving her head in time with the music and Jack has his head buried in his hands, his face red again. Bitty feels so warm and light as they speed down the road, Jack’s parents singing and dancing along to Taylor Swift.

When they arrive at their destination, Bitty finds himself gasping and pressing his face up to the window of the car. The “cabin” is gigantic and luxurious, with beautiful woodwork that contrasts the huge windows that overlook the lake right next to the cabin. Bitty can see a few kayaks and canoes lying on the sand of the beach and a fancy picnic table outside.

“You...you live here?” he asks, then silently scolds himself for being rude.

Bob laughs. “Just in the summer, Eric, in the winter we have an apartment in the city where we stay.”

“Wow,” Eric breathes as the car comes to a stop. “It’s so pretty.”

Alicia smiles back at him then steps out of the car. Jack hardly waits for the car to stop moving, he’s already out the door and on his way up the driveway to the cabin. Eric shoulders his bag and jogs a little to catch up to him.

“Hey! Your parents really are something,” he says, smiling and bubbly.

Jack groans. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? They’re a riot!”

“They embarrass me,” Jack retorts mechanically. Eric laughs as they reach the house.

“All parents do that, Jack. It’s their job. I know my Mama is always saying the darnedest things when we’re in public to mess with me, and my dad–”

He cuts off suddenly, his voice catching in his throat. He frowns and just breathes out, the rest of the sentence gone in the cool and gentle breeze.

“Bitty...”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I’m okay. It’s just...you know.”

Jack nods as they stand at the door, waiting for Jack’s parents to join them. Jack doesn't have a key on him. He looks at Bitty with guilt painted in his eyes and the blond gently grabs his arm at the elbow.

“Don’t, Jack,” he says gently, knowing exactly what Jack is thinking. “You’re allowed to be embarrassed, you’re allowed to complain. Just because I have a bit of a different situation doesn’t mean your feelings are invalid or anything, y’know?”

“It isn’t fair, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Bitty squeezes his elbow. “Don’t worry about it honey,” he says as Jack’s parents finally reach the door.

Bob smiles at him as he brushes past, quickly opening the door and ushering Jack and Bitty in first. The inside of the cabin is gorgeous; the furniture is all sleek and wooden and so modern, a fire is already crackling in the large fireplace, and a huge bay window looks out over the beach and the lake. Bitty finds himself drawn to it, resisting the urge to press his hands against the glass. Jack sidles up next to him.

“What a view,” Bitty breathes.

“Yeah,” Jack replies. His eyes aren’t on the scenery.

“Jackie, why don’t you grab Eric’s bag and take it upstairs to your room?” Alicia asks as she places a hand on his shoulder.

“Which room is he staying in?”

She frowns slightly and chuckles. “Well I assume you two’ll be sharing? No point in putting him in a room all by himself!”

Eric grins when Jack blushes, muttering something about privacy and embarrassment as he grabs the backpack from Eric’s shoulder.

After a few more moments of looking out the window, he hears Alicia call to him from the kitchen. He follows her voice to one of the most beautiful kitchens he’s ever seen, even more modern and up-to-date then the kitchen at Holly’s. The beautiful dark brown cabinets stand out against stainless steel accents and marble countertops. Eric gasps when he enters. Alicia laughs and guides him to a stool.

“I figured you might like the kitchen, being such a good baker and all,” she says as she smiles down at him and gets him a glass of water. He hadn’t asked for one, but now that she’s putting the water in his hands he realizes how thirsty he is.

She sits down across the counter from him, her hands laid delicately in front of her and her posture immaculate. Her eyes are dazzling blue but warm and tender and they remind Bitty so much of Jack’s that it’s almost unsettling.

“So Eric, how long have you been baking?”

He grins, _this_ is a topic he could talk about all day. “Long as I can remember ma’am! My Mama taught me back when I was just a little thing, and it stuck with me.”

“And now you’re making a profession out of it! You’re successful too, from what I’ve heard.”

Eric blushes shyly. “I suppose so. I just love getting to bake as my job, it hardly even feels like one!”

He thinks about his job for a second, and realizes that he hasn’t been there very often in the last couple of weeks. He can feel a seed of guilt and worry start to plant itself somewhere in his stomach but he puts the thought of the bakery out of his mind, refusing to water that seed for now.

He hears a disturbance from upstairs and then laughter as Bob descends the stairs, quickly joining Alicia across from Bitty.

Oh Lord. Here it comes. Listen, Bitty isn’t an idiot. Just because he’s never had a boyfriend doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how it works. The parents are about to interrogate him while Jack is absent and decide if he really is a good fit for their son. He’s been expecting it to happen, but not so soon–he’s barely known Jack’s parents for more than an hour. He can see the looks in their eyes, they seem cautious and a little critical and suddenly he feels very small. Two celebrities are sitting across from him, probably judging him.

“Eric,” Bob finally starts, “we just wanted to talk to you about something.”

He nods and his eyes widen slightly, feigning ignorance to their intentions as he takes a sip of water.

Bob sighs. “This...It isn’t easy. I don't exactly know how to say it.” He looks at Alicia, who also sighs then grabs Eric’s hand. His brows knit together slightly.

“Eric, I’m sure you know this, but Jack’s had a lot of issues in the past with, uh...” Oh. This isn’t about him at all.

“So we just feel like we need to reiterate that to you, and explain how important it is. It’s not something that goes away, no matter how much better he seems to be. I would just hate if things get to a certain point and suddenly you feel like you can’t handle it.”

She’s choosing her words carefully, Eric can tell. She doesn’t want to offend him, or Jack for that matter. He understands where she’s coming from though, especially after everything Jack experienced with Kent.

“As his mother, no matter how old he is, it’s so hard to see him go through that,” she continues, almost reading his mind. Bob nods and shifts in his seat, then takes over for her.

“Bottom line Eric, we just want you to know what’s ahead. There’ll definitely be bad days, but also really good days. It’s not your _job_ to take care of him of course, that’s not what we’re saying at all. But if you’re going to be there for him, you need to be there for him unconditionally.”

Eric takes a breath. He’d definitely thought about this over the last week, but hadn’t brought it up to anybody.

“I’m not sure if he told you this, but earlier in the summer he had a bad panic attack and I helped him through it,” Bitty says, trying hard not to sound too defensive. Their expressions shift just slightly. “He isn’t some broken person, though,” Eric continues, feeling emotional and protective. “I know what you’re trying to say, and I understand that in the past, maybe that _was_ an issue. But it won’t be anymore. I accept him— _all_ of him—and I’m gonna support him no matter what. He’s a person...he’s not just his mental illness, I guess is what I’m trying to say. It isn’t something that makes him unlovable or damaged, it’s just another aspect of who he is.”

He finishes, his ears a little hot and his grip on the glass in front of him tight. He knows a lot of what he said was sort of cliche, but he knows it's also true.

Alicia squeezes his other hand and smiles, her eyes getting a little teary. “I’m sorry we had to bring it up, sweetie. You’re right, and you’re gonna be so good for him.”

Eric squeezes back as he releases the glass.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Bob stands up and clasps his shoulder. “Why don’t I show you to your room now?”

 

Jack is sitting on the bed, fiddling with his laptop and his phone. He looks up briefly when Bob and Eric enter the room, then goes back to it, grumbling under his breath. Eric giggles and sits down next to him, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

Jack sighs. “I was trying to put another playlist on my phone, but for some reason it won’t connect to the iTunes.”

Eric stifles a laugh and makes eye contact with Bob, who’s smiling at them endearingly. “Did you try unplugging your phone and plugging it back in?”

Jack frowns at him. “Why would that help?”

Eric shrugs. “It just does, try it!”

Jack grumbles again but pulls the cord out of the phone. When he plugs it in again, the laptop makes a noise and the phone shows up in his iTunes window.

“See? Maybe I should have gone into tech or something,” Eric jokes. Bob laughs and Jack just blinks at him.

“Okay son, your bathroom is right through there,” Bob says as he points through a doorway. Eric hadn’t realized that their bathroom would be connected right to their room. “And you saw where the kitchen is; you can grab yourself something to eat or drink at any time. I think Alicia and I are about to start lunch, so you kids can just relax up here and we’ll call you down!”

Eric smiles and nods as Bob exits, closing the door behind him.

It hasn’t even been that long since the last time the two of them had been alone, mere hours, but Eric’s heart flutters regardless. It’s different, somehow, than sharing the same bed in the white house in Boston. That felt... regular and routine, even after just a few nights together. It was interesting how easily Eric finds himself accommodating to having another person in his bed, something he has never experienced before in his life.

But this is a completely different story for some reason. He’s in Jack’s family’s summer home, Jack’s parents are consciously aware of the fact that their son has another man sleeping in his bed. They _are_ adults of course, but there’s still some kind of underlying taboo that Eric can’t shake. It’s not even like they’re doing anything sexual. They haven’t yet. Aside from some brief makeout sessions, the two of them have controlled their urges. There’s been an unspoken understanding that they both want to take things slow, at least in the beginning, as hard as that is.

Bob’s footsteps disappear down the hallway and Jack puts his laptop and phone on his desk on the other side of the room while the playlist downloads to the phone. He then sits back on the bed and smiles at Bitty.

“Hi,” he says, almost a whisper.

“Hi,” Bitty breathes back, and then his hands are behind Jack’s head and his lips are on Jack’s and he can feel Jack wrapping strong arms around him, pulling him closer. Jack gently pushes Bitty onto his back and climbs on top of him gingerly, his hands resting on either side of Bitty’s head. Eric is lightly pushing up against Jack’s chest as their lips meet again hungrily. Jack bites at Eric’s lower lip playfully and Bitty gasps involuntarily, eliciting a smirk.

“One of these days you’re gonna hurt me,” Bitty jokes.

“I’d never hurt you,” Jack replies, and his tone is so serious and heartfelt that Eric can tell he’s not joking in the slightest.

 _You're stuck in my head, stuck on my heart, stuck on my body, body_ _  
_ _I wanna go, get out of here, I'm sick of the party, party_ _  
_ _I'd run away_   
I'd run away with you

He kisses Eric one last time before rolling off of him onto his back, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Eric entwines his fingers with Jack’s, his hand slightly cold. Jack nudges him with a shoulder but remains silent, just breathing.

“What if we didn’t go back?” Jack asks after a minute.

 _This is the part, you've got to say all that you're feeling, feeling_ _  
_ _Packing a bag, we're leaving tonight when everyone's sleeping, sleeping_ _  
_ _Let's run away_   
I'll run away with you

Eric sits up. “What do you mean?”

Jack follows his lead and props himself up. “Just in theory... We could just stay here. My parents only come during the summer, but that could change. I like living in Boston, but our friends can be so hectic and fast-paced. I could go for something slower, I guess.”

 _Cause you make me feel like_ _  
_ _I could be driving you all night_ _  
_ _And I found your lips in the street lights_   
I wanna be there with you

Eric laughs a little incredulously and his chest is suddenly tight. “Don’t be silly, I have a job, and we have our friends, and our _lives_ are back there! I mean, this place is great and all, but we couldn’t just leave, Jack!”

Jack smiles gently. “Yeah, I know. But it’s kinda fun to think about, eh?”

No, it’s terrifying. Living together in the same house is one thing, but the thought of moving out and living _just_ the two of them twists Eric’s stomach into a knot. The thing he notices about his boyfriend is that Jack is always so many steps ahead of him. Maybe it’s because he’s got five years on Bitty, or maybe it’s just the way he thinks, but Jack is always talking so casually about the future. Eric doesn’t wanna think about the future, he just wants to focus on the now.

 _Oh baby, take me to the feeling_ _  
_ _I'll be your sinner, in secret_ _  
_ _When the lights go out_ _  
_ _Run away with me_ _  
_ _Run away with me_ _  
_ _Oh baby, every single minute_ _  
_ _I'll be your hero, I'm willing_ _  
_ _When the lights go out_   
Run away with me

Lunch is light and simple: sandwiches, salad, and homemade potato chips (when did Alicia have enough time to fucking make her own potato chips?)

The conversation over the meal is mostly about Bitty, so his face is red for the duration. Bob and Alicia ask lots of questions about him, his life, his background. He tells them about his home in Georgia, the figure skating, and the baking, but things get a little tense when Alicia asks how his parents reacted to the news of him and Jack.

Jack shakes his head subtly, warning his mother not to push the subject any further.

Eric laughs a little. “Jack, it’s okay! I...haven’t told them yet. Things are a little complicated with my folks at the moment.”

“Oh, how so?” Bob asks.

“They weren’t exactly supportive when I came out, which only happened last week believe it or not. I didn’t really get to do it on my terms either, but I guess they had to find out sooner or later. Anyway, my Mama was mostly okay with it, it’s just gonna take her some time. My dad...”

“Bitty,” Jack cuts in, “you don’t have to talk about this.”

Alicia nods. “We understand. We don’t need details. Sometimes people just don’t know how to react in the beginning, honey. He’ll come around.”

“Everybody’s been saying that, but they don’t know my dad.”

“Maybe not,” Bob says, “but I do know what it’s like to _be_ a dad. You’re his only son. No matter what he may have felt initially, he’ll eventually put that aside because he loves you.”

Eric bites the inside of his cheek and looks down at his plate. “I guess...”

“So what are we doing after lunch?” Jack asks hastily, changing the subject.

“Well, it’s up to you two!” Alicia says as she starts to clear the plates. “The weather is so nice, you could go for a walk, or maybe take the boats out? Have you ever kayaked before Eric?”

He smiles. “Yes ma’am. I used to work as a counselor at a summer camp every summer!”

“I never knew that,” Jack says.

Eric stands up and starts to help Alicia with the dishes. “I’m like a wedding cake Jack, there are lots of layers,” he says with a wink.

 

He feels like he could fall asleep. The breeze is blowing on his face, the sound of the leaves rustling in the trees on the shore providing a soothing white noise, occasionally accompanied by the sound of a paddle cutting through the water. Sunbeams warm his skin as nature seems to breathe around him, with him.

Jack has his camera in his lap and occasionally raises it to his eye when he finds himself in a good position. Bitty is lounging in his open kayak, his feet and the bottom of his shorts wet, feeling lazy and content. Bugs flit around his face and he halfheartedly swats them away. They’ve only been out on the lake for about half an hour but Eric’s arms are already tired from rowing, especially after Jack challenged him to a little race. There had been no contest, Jack’s arms are muscular and powerful and while Bitty may be light on his feet, his upper body strength isn’t amazing.

“You’re not actually sleeping, are you, Bittle?”

He opens one eye and raises a hand to shield it from the sun blazing down on him. “Not quite, but I think I’m getting there.”

Jack laughs and as Eric closes his eye again, he hears Jack’s boat approach his slowly. He jolts slightly when his boat rocks a little from the impact.. His hands are behind his head and he can feel the warmth of the afternoon all over his skin, and it takes him a second to open his eyes to verify the source of the disruption.

Jack’s boat is perpendicular to his and Jack is sitting there smiling, the sun dancing off the water and into his eyes, and Eric would be lying if he said Jack’s eyes weren’t the prettiest thing around them. Forget the lake, forget the trees, forget all of the scenery. Jack was all he wanted to look at.

 

They order pizza for dinner, which Eric finds amusing for some reason.

“We’re eating at a nice restaurant for Jackie’s birthday tomorrow,” Alicia explains, “so I figured we could just relax and have a night in! Eric, do you want to pick a movie to watch?”

He shrugs as the doorbell rings and Bob pays the pizza guy.

“I’m fine with whatever, really!”

“Are you sure? You’re the guest sweetie, it’s up to you.”

He can’t really think of anything, so he insists that he’s fine with whatever everybody else wants to watch.

That’s the story of how Jack and Bitty end up watching Brokeback Mountain with Jack’s parents. Interestingly enough, Bob is the only one out of the 4 who has ever seen it before. They eat their pizza in the living room in front of the large TV, a fire crackling peacefully below the screen.

About halfway through the movie, Alicia leaves the room to make some popcorn, which she brings back after a few minutes in two bowls. Eric and Jack share, their hands occasionally brushing and sending chills down Bitty’s spine.

Everyone but Jack cries at the end of the movie. They all look at him in disbelief, their faces teary and red. He forces a sniffle to appease them and Eric rolls his watery eyes.

Ten minutes later, Bob and Alicia have wished them goodnight and turned in for bed. Eric is lying in Jack’s arms on the couch, everything dark around them, their faces partly illuminated by the slowly dying flames. Jack’s eyes shine in the light, reflecting the coals in the darkness. Eric can feel himself falling asleep, his own eyes refuse to stay open and his whole body is limp against Jack’s. He yawns and Jack laughs gently, brushing a hand through Eric’s hair and murmuring, “I think it’s time for bed.”

Eric shakes his head, not wanting to ever move from this spot. “I’m fine,” he rasps, his voice already giving up on being awake. Jack laughs again and so easily picks Bitty up off the couch, carrying him upstairs and into their room.

“Brush your teeth and get into pajamas, and then we can go to bed.”

“Jack,” Bitty whines. “Can’t we skip all of that? I’m so–” His sentence is interrupted by a yawn and he paws at his eyes, willing them to stay open just for a few more minutes.

Jack shakes his head. “Come on, I’ll come with you.”

He guides Bitty into the bathroom, his cheeks a little pink and his own eyes threatening to close. He then goes back out into the bedroom and comes back with Bitty’s toothbrush. They both brush their teeth and Jack ushers Bitty back into the room, turning off the bathroom light. Bitty yawns again and starts to get into bed but Jack stops him.

“You’re still wearing your clothes from today, you should change.”

He groans and pouts. “I do it all the time, it’s no big deal!”

Jack cocks an eyebrow slightly but doesn’t say anything else.

Eric meets his eyes and sighs. “Fine, but that whole looking-into-my-soul thing isn’t gonna work forever, mister.”

“Sure,” Jack responds.

“Um,” Eric starts, suddenly feeling awkward. “Should I change in the bathroom?”

Jack stares at him for a second, honestly not sure how to answer. “Yeah, if that’s what you’re comfortable with.”

Eric realizes that Jack is probably used to changing in front of other people considering he’s played sports for such a significant portion of his life. It wasn’t like Eric hadn't _ever_ , he had had to for high school gym class and a few figure skating related events, but this was different. It was Jack.

Jack doesn’t even bother to wait to see what Eric decides to do; his own shirt and pants are already off and he’s slipping on a pair of sweatpants. Eric decides in a moment of courage that he doesn’t need to go change in the bathroom. Jack has already seen him shirtless, they’ve been sleeping in the same bed, for fuck’s sake. Why does he feel so self conscious?

He changes as quickly as he can, facing away from Jack. The light goes off as he’s putting a t-shirt on and then a pair of more comfy shorts, and when he turns around Jack is right behind him, his body glowing in the moonlight that’s pouring in from the large window.

Jack smiles and reaches out a hand, guiding Bitty to the bed. He gets in first and Eric climbs in after him, shivering slightly until the blanket is pulled over his body and Jack’s arms are around him. His back is against Jack’s bare chest, their chests rising and falling in the same rhythm. Jack kisses the back of Eric’s head and puts his head down on the pillow.

Then, just like that, Eric’s eyes are closed and another day is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost: this fic hit 200 subs and I almost cried. That's just wild to me, thank you all for your support it means so much to me!!!  
> Because these two are so gay for each other I just HAD to include Carly Slay Jepsus's gay anthem in the fic, so here it is :D. Also this chapter mentions a lot of the "Jack functions at either 0% or 110%" trope and I feel like it fits perfectly with that.  
> I'm not sure at this rate if this will be done by the time I go on my senior trip, but either way that's only 5 or so days so it probably won't be that long of a wait between chapters anyway. I'm still hoping to get it done by then, but if not you shouldn't have to wait too long!  
> Feel free to leave comments about whatever, even a couple words can make my day :)
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia  
> 18\. 90s Music // Kimbra  
> 19\. Run Away With Me // Carly Rae Jepsen


	20. i know what i got, i know where we're goin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [What You Don't Do by Lianne La Havas](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNLkD8QEnAM)
> 
> Warning: This chapter has a little NSFW section :)

Something isn’t right. Eric wakes up and that weight he’s already gotten so used to isn’t there. He forces his eyes open and stretches his body, his t-shirt a little too big and hanging off one shoulder. He squints in the sunlight and notices that on the vacant pillow next to him, sitting atop the empty half of the bed that’s neatly made, is a note.

_Went for a run, parents can make you breakfast when you wake up. Be back soon :-)_

He shakes his head and clutches the piece of paper to his chest, inhaling deeply through his nose. The room smells like Jack.

The house is quiet as Bitty slips out of the bed, the note still held loose. He pads out of the bedroom and down the hallway, his feet cold against the hard wood. He starts to descend the stairs, but stops as he hears voices.

“–I’m just not sure Jackie,” Alicia says. Eric can hear the worry in her voice.

“Mama, it’s time. I promise, things will be better. It’s different, now.”

“I know, and I like Eric, honey, I trust him–” There’s a pause and she reaffirms, “ _I do_ , I can already tell that he’ll be so good for you, Jackie. I see the way you look at him and it reminds me of the way I used to catch your father looking at me. I just...” She sighs. “I want you to think about it—just a little bit longer!” she says, cutting off Jack’s next words.

“The season is starting soon, I don’t have that much time left. Mama, I’m already 26.”

“27,” she corrects him.

“Right,” he says, then again with a little sigh, “Right, it’s my birthday.”

“Exactly, sweetie, so why don’t we save this conversation for tomorrow? One more day won’t hurt... You should probably go check to see if Eric is awake, it’s almost ten and I want you two to go shopping before dinner tonight!”

“ _Maman_ ,” Jack whines, earning a laugh from Alicia, then a sigh.

She adds an afterthought. “...Jackie? One more thing. Just...I don’t want you to rely on him, not too much. There’s no doubt in my mind that that boy could handle it, and yes, part of a relationship is being there for each other, but what if you find you can’t be there for him, too?” Eric clutches the handrail and inhales sharply.

“So, I go for a run every morning,” Jack starts to explain, and Alicia hums in agreement. “For the longest time, it’s always felt like I’m running away. From life. From Kent. From hockey. And then Eric came along and...it finally feels like I’m running _toward_ something again. I’m tired of running away. I’m ready, _Maman_. I want a life again, I want to play hockey again, I want...I want him. He makes me feel safe, he makes me feel like I can do it.”

Eric feels his knees weaken as tears spring to his eyes. The next few sentences are lost to his ears; his head is swimming and his pulse is rushing.

 _Heavy words, little lies_ _  
_ _Telling everything but the truth_   
Three little words over time overheard and overused

When he comes back to his senses, Alicia is talking again, laughing.

“I’m not arguing with you about this, Jack, neither of you packed _appropriate_ clothes! Just take him into the city and the two of you get yourselves something more formal..”

Eric hears a chair scraping away from a table and panics for a second, not sure if he should come down the stairs and risk them knowing that he heard their conversation. Instead, he quickly turns around and runs up the stairs, back into his and Jack’s room. He jumps into the bed and closes his eyes, trying to relax his body and wipe the tears out of his eyes.

After a few seconds, there’s a gentle knock at the door and the sound of Jack’s voice. “Bitty? You awake?”

He remains still, his face in his pillow in an attempt to dry his cheeks. He feels Jack sit down on the bed and then his hand is on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake.

“Eric,” he whispers, placing a kiss on Bitty’s jawline. Eric’s eyes flutter open when he feels Jack’s hot breath on his ear and Jack smiles.

“Morning,” he grins, lightly kissing Eric’s temple at his hairline.

“Morning honey, happy birthday,” Bitty says, stretching dramatically in hopes that Jack won’t notice how cold his hands and feet are from being out of bed. He doesn’t; instead he kisses Bitty again, this time on the lips. Bitty grunts and pushes him away slightly.

“What happened to ‘we haven’t brushed our teeth’?” he asks playfully.

“Well _I_ have! Besides, my birthday, my rules,” Jack shoots back, pressing his lips to Bitty’s again. Eric grins against his boyfriend’s mouth and throws his arms lazily around his broad shoulders. He almost squeals when Jack’s arms slide under his legs and around his back, picking him up and pulling him out of the bed. The kiss breaks as they both laugh and Bitty tightens his grip.

“Do you want breakfast?” Jack asks as Eric kisses him again, breathing deeply through his nose before pulling away again and shrugging.

“What time is it?”

“Almost ten, a little late for you eh?”

Eric smacks his shoulder (but not too hard, Jack _is_ holding him in the air after all). “Yesterday was tiring! We didn’t do much I guess, but meeting your parents drained me.”

Jack frowns slightly and Bitty adds quickly, “Not that I don’t like them, because I do! So much, Jack. They’re amazing. It’s just a lot to take in, you know?”

Jack’s frown dissolves, and he smiles. “Yeah, I know,” he breathes, kissing Bitty one last time before carefully letting him down. Eric’s arms slide from behind Jack’s head and stop at his forearms. He’s still slightly up on his toes, lingering in Jack’s touch, not wanting to meet the ground again.

_No sweet nothing could ever be turned into something new_

“You never answered my question,” Jack says with a little smile. “Are you hungry?”

Eric’s stomach grumbles on cue and he laughs, pushing into Jack’s chest and hugging around his waist. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Do you want me to make you something?”

Eric laughs against Jack’s body then looks up at him. “Nice try, honey, but I think _I’ll_ be doing the making.”

_No grand gesture could ever be made to measure you_

 

It’s just like any other car ride, and there have been multiple car rides since Eric and Jack started dating. They’re on their way to the mall to go shopping for clothes together, which is just about the cutest and most domestic thing they’ve ever done and Eric is anticipating every moment of it.

Jack has his phone connected to the car (this one has bluetooth, so Bitty had to help him with that) and he’s playing mostly music that Bitty is familiar with. No Air, by Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown, is currently pumping out of the high-end speakers. Eric dramatically sings along to both parts, because of course he knows every damn word. It’s a modern classic! Jack is laughing and Eric’s face is screwed up into faux passion as he motions wildly with his hands. He knows that distracting his driver could be dangerous, but seeing Jack smiling and laughing is enough to make Eric throw all caution into the wind that’s rushing through the open windows.

After No Air, Holding Onto You by Twenty One Pilots comes on, and then Cosmic Love by Florence + the Machine. When he realises that he knows all the words to all the songs that have played so far, he checks the playlist. His stomach twists into a knot when he sees that the name of the list is “Songs That Remind Me of Bitty.”

 _I know what I got and I know where we're going_ _  
_ _You don't need to show it, I already know it all_ _  
_ _It's what you don't do, it's what you don't say_   
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof

 

“What do you think about this one?” Jack asks, holding up a mustard yellow suit jacket with matching pants and—Eric gags—shoes in the same yellow color.

“Out of all of the possibilities in this damn store, you go for _that_?” Bitty asks. Jack shrugs and puts it back on its rack.

“I like yellow...” he mumbles as he continues to browse. Eric chuckles and turns back to the suit he’s looking at; a simple blue jacket and pants. The material is fairly soft and comfortable, and he looks to see which sizes are available. Perfect.

“Jack? Can you come over here?”

He sees Jack’s head pop up over a shoe display and he hurries over, looking slightly concerned.

“You’re okay right?”

Eric laughs. “Of course I am! I just wanted your opinion on this!”

Jack sighs in relief and glances the set up and down.

“It’s nice. I found something even better though.”

Bitty raises an eyebrow, smiling slightly. He’s so endeared by Jack, but he doubts that Jack could change his mind about the blue. This color contrasts perfectly with his blond hair and complexion.

Jack grabs his wrist and guides him back the way he came, planting him in front of a slim-cut black suit. It’s classic and elegant and it comes with a red patterned bow tie, but it causes Eric to furrow his brow and reconsider the blue suit. Had Jack really picked out something he liked? Usually Jack’s fashion sense wasn’t much to write home about.

“Like it?” Jack asks hopefully, and dammit, Bitty has to smile at that because he’s just so cute. “Yeah, I actually really do,” Eric responds, doing his best to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Okay good! And I like that blue one, so that was a good choice for me I think.”

Eric frowns then laughs. Jack had apparently thought Eric had been shopping for _him_ , and vice versa. Then he frowns again; if Jack had been shopping for Eric, then why had he suggested that damn yellow suit?

“Yeah, I think that would look good on you,” Bitty says slowly, picturing Jack in the blue and smiling a bit.

“Alright, that was easy! Usually shopping with my mom takes much longer,” Jack says, starting back toward the blue suit. Eric checks the price tag on his and almost has a heart attack. Even with the nice paychecks he’s been getting from working at the bakery, there’s no way he can afford this.

His face drops as he follows after Jack, who is grabbing his choice in his size. “Jack, I–”

Jack walks right past him and back over to the black suit, pulling it off the rack. “Honey, I really can’t–”

Again, Jack ignores him and starts to take their items toward the cashier. Eric groans and grabs his arm.

“ _Jack_. I really like that one, but I can’t afford it,” he says, feeling embarrassed.

Jack smiles. “Don’t worry about it Bitty.” Then he turns around and continues on to his destination. Eric frowns, wondering why Jack isn’t bringing the suit back to the rack. “Did you hear me? I said I can’t–”

Jack shoots him a quick look that takes the words out of his mouth, then pays for the clothes as Bitty stands gaping.

Jack thanks the cashier and carefully handles the two suits, now covered with plastic. “Jack,” Bitty hisses. “You didn’t have to pay for me!”

Jack just shrugs and exits the store.

 _I've been saving up my time so I could spend it all on you_ _  
_ _Oh, all I need is to see you smile; I've forgotten how to be blue_

 

Jack’s birthday dinner may be in a fancy restaurant, but the air at the table is casual and fun. The table is circular and Eric and Jack are next to each other, essentially across from Jack’s parents. Bitty feels like it’s their first real meal together. Jack and his father are conversing in Québécois, leaving Bitty and Alicia slightly out of the conversation.

“So, Eric,” Alicia says as a waiter brings them some wine, “how are you liking Montreal so far?”

“I love it ma’am! Lucky that we’ve had such nice weather, and the people here are real nice!”

“They sure are, it’s these damn Canadians and their manners!” she jokes. Bob and Jack stop their conversation and glance at her for a second, then go back into it. Bitty took French in high school, and he was never amazing at it, but they’re talking so quickly that he’d never even dream of understanding.

Alicia sighs knowingly and takes a long sip of wine. “See what I have to put up with? Apparently they can talk faster this way, but then I have to sit here and just look pretty—not that I’m bad at that or anything,” she says with a wink. “But now I have you to keep me company!”

Eric laughs and nods, taking a sip from his own glass. The wine is amazing, dark and pungent, warming his throat as he swallows it.

“So, a question,” Alicia says after another minute of waiting for Jack and Bob to join the conversation. From what Bitty can tell, they’re probably talking about Jack getting into hockey again.

“Yes ma’am?”

She puts her wine glass down and looks at him seriously. “Soufflés. Just...How?”

He grins and launches into an explanation on how to make them, the best methods to get the best results, and how careful one has to be with such a delicate type of baking. Alicia listens intently, nodding occasionally and adding comments like, “I hadn’t thought to do that!” and “Oh, so _that’s_ when that step is supposed to happen.”

When he’s done explaining, Alicia thanks him and he notices that Bob and Jack are now staring at them, the concept of baking as foreign to them as Québécois is to Bitty.

They all start to converse, talking about plans for the fall and sharing stories about school and the past. Eric learns more about Alicia’s and Bob’s careers, and they somehow manage to list so many accomplishments without sounding at all conceited.

He’s a little relieved when the waiter finally brings their food, because he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He isn’t really a fan of seafood but the tilapia is the least expensive thing on the menu, believe it or not, so that’s what he goes with.

Jack is eating a salad and _damn that salad is big_ , smothered in various vegetables and a little bit of chicken. He eats it without any dressing, much to Bitty’s disgust, because “That’s just extra calories Eric, I don’t even like the taste.”

Bob and Alicia both order some kind of meat dish that Eric hasn’t ever heard of, but it’s smothered in this kind of creamy, whitish sauce and the aroma from the herbs almost brings tears to his eyes. He struggles a little bit with his own meal because he doesn't realize there are bones in the fish and he almost chokes on one.

That’s why he’s glad when Jack leans over and helps him pick through the fish, pulling out as many bones as he can find, never even saying a word but smiling as he shifts back into his seat. As Bitty is finishing his fish, he feels a foot hook around his ankle and resists the urge to look down. He glances sideways and Jack is smirking slightly, only half paying attention to the story that Bob is telling animatedly.

His eyes widen slightly and he fights the temptation to giggle as he pushes slightly against Jack’s foot. Jack pushes back and his foot moves down so it’s crossing over Bitty’s. He’s trying to be as subtle as possible, because he would be mortified if he was caught playing footsie in a fancy restaurant while dining with his boyfriend’s parents. Regardless, he continues to poke at Jack’s foot with his, swallowing a smile and trying hard to listen to the conversation. When Jack’s foot starts to move up his leg slowly that focus goes completely fuzzy until he’s directly addressed.

“Eric?” Bob says, his tone indicating that it isn’t the first time he’s said Bitty’s name. He sits up a little straighter, his cheeks going red. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Bob grins as he realizes what had been going on, obviously not a stranger to the occasional game of footsie.

“Just wondering if you wanted any dessert!”

 _The closer we get, oh_ _  
_ _The less we need to show_

 

“Bitty...Are you asleep?”

Eric squirms slightly then shakes his head. “No, I’m not really that tired.” Jack is draped over him like a blanket, his arms pinning Bitty to the bed. He doesn’t feel trapped though, he feels safe. He feels free.

Eric starts to roll over and Jack adjusts his position so he can do so, and suddenly they’re face to face and the moon is shining through the window, casting a bluish tint over everything. It’s a particularly warm night and Jack is wearing nothing but underwear, Bitty in a sleeveless shirt and the shortest shorts he owns.

“I’m not tired either,” Jack says before kissing Eric, grabbing his delicate hands and placing them on his body, just to feel as much contact as possible.

Eric moans and hums, allowing his hands to explore. He can feel himself getting hard and he pulls away for a second, clearing his throat while taking a deep breath. Jack smirks and pulls him back in, placing kisses up and down his exposed collarbone and tangling his fingers in Eric’s hair, which looks almost silver in the moonlit room.

After a few seconds one of Jack’s hands travels down the length of Eric’s body, sliding along the worn cloth of his shirt and coming to a stop at the waistband of the shorts. He looks at Eric, raises an eyebrow slightly, waiting for Eric to stop him, to say no, but Eric doesn’t. He licks his lips and nods, arching his back slightly as Jack moves his hand all the way down. He gasps and a whimper passes his lips when Jack touches him through his shorts; he pushes his hips slightly upward into the touch. Jack’s right hand is on his chest, which is rising and falling rapidly, and he’s sure Jack can feel his heart beating out of his chest.

It’s the most they’ve ever done, and it’s the first time Eric has ever been touched this way by someone else. The way that Jack slowly rubs him through the fabric is enough to make him squeeze his eyes shut and hold on for dear life. Jack is holding Eric's body in place on the bed and he feels like if those hands weren’t holding him still, he might float away; he has so little control left.

Jack stops for a second and Eric whines quietly, gasping for air as Jack tugs at his shirt. He lifts his arms over his head and he hears the shirt hit the ground a moment after. They both pause for a second, relishing in the silence around them and this moment that nobody else will ever know about, something so private and new.

Jack starts to pull at Bitty’s shorts then stops, his hesitation a request for permission. Bitty doesn’t say anything either, he just bucks his hips upward, which is enough of an answer for Jack, who slowly peels the tight shorts off Eric’s body, followed by his underwear. Suddenly Eric is so vulnerable and exposed and he covers his face with his hands.

Jack gently pries them away, brows knit slightly. “Why are you hiding?” he murmurs.

Eric shrugs and takes a long breath, his eyelashes fluttering and his dick throbbing at the idea of Jack touching it again.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack breathes as he kisses Eric, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his toned stomach. They separate and Jack asks again one more time with his eyes. Eric grabs his wrist and guides his hand downward, his breath catching as Jack’s hand makes contact. Jack grins slightly, his eyes lidded and dark, as he circles his fingers, eliciting a high-pitched whine.

Jack shushes him gently as he starts to stroke, his other hand back on Bitty’s chest to hold him in place. Bitty is glad for it; the pleasure is so intense that he feels his soul may literally leave his body and ascend. Jack’s fingers curl expertly around his dick, his wrist twisting slightly with each movement downward.

“Jesus, Jack, oh fuck,” Bitty gasps as Jack’s tempo increases slightly. He starts to move his hips in rhythm with Jack’s hand, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through his system. His eyes are closed so tight that he can almost see stars, and when he opens them he sees Jack, the corner of his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration.

He keeps breathing his name, over and over as the tension builds in his groin, hot and intense and threatening to burst at any moment.

“J-Jack, I’m gonna–” he manages to choke out and Jack nods, picking up the pace one last time. Eric takes in a high and sharp breath before he comes, ribbons of white shooting over Jack’s hand and his stomach. He’s holding his breath now, waiting for the intensity of the orgasm to die down. Jack kisses him and he exhales through his nose, letting out a moan as he does so. Jack smirks again and pulls away from the kiss, his hand slowly pulling away. Eric’s whole body is tingling, buzzing.

After a few more moments, Eric sits up and looks at Jack, who hasn’t changed his position aside from the subtraction of his hand from Bitty’s dick. Eric grins and swallows, pushing himself forward to kiss Jack again. Jack sits back, cross-legged, and Bitty rests his left hand on Jack’s chest, the other coming to rest between Jack’s legs. Jack gasps and his tongue enters Bitty’s mouth, swirling around Bitty’s. Their lips open wide and close again, producing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that steal the air right from Eric’s lungs. With his eyes still closed, he find’s Jack’s dick with his right hand and starts to pet gently through Jack’s underwear, causing Jack’s body to shudder, then relax.

Eric smiles as Jack places his arms behind him for support and tugs at the waistband of Jack’s underwear, allowing his dick to spring free and hit his stomach. Jack’s eyes are slightly glassy and he’s gazing upwards, nodding and panting. Eric starts with his hand, trying to copy motions he’s done on himself many times in his life, feeling triumphant when Jack breathes, “Eric, don’t stop.”

He mimics Jack’s movements from before, twisting his wrist as he pushes downward. Jack is muttering now and from what Eric can tell it isn’t English, which must be a sign that he’s doing something right. He increases the force of his thrusts just slightly and Jack is melting to his touch, his locked arms behind him the only things keeping him upright.

Finally, Jack orgasms with a quiet yelp, allowing himself to fall backward slowly. They’re both sweaty and sticky but Eric climbs on top of him, waiting for him to come back to his senses.

“Bitty,” Jack whimpers.

“Happy birthday Jack.”

 

“Eric honey, it was so nice to finally meet you! You two can come up here whenever you like, you know. In the fall you can come stay with us in the apartment. You’re always welcome!” Alicia beams at him, kissing him on the cheek before pulling him into a hug. She smells a little bit like flowers, a little bit like a kitchen, a little bit like Eric’s mom. He can feel tears coming from out of nowhere but he blinks them away and smiles.

“Thank you so much ma’am, I had a wonderful time.”

They separate and Bob pulls him into a hug, which he returns after a second of shock. Jack chuckles as he kisses his mother goodbye. Bob pulls away and smiles, looking right into Eric’s eyes. “Welcome to the family, son.”

 

“So you had a good time?”

“Yeah,” he says dreamily, sitting at the cash register and smudging little hearts onto the countertop.

Holly lightly smacks the back of his head but smiles. “I would hope so, considering you’ve been gone for what feels like a dozen years!”

He comes to his senses slightly, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry Holly, he just kinda sprang it on me at the last minute and I really didn’t want to miss even more work, especially since I was out for a while after the incident with Parse, but I couldn’t just–”

“Eric! Relax, it’s okay. Mind you, I’m gonna be expecting you to be on your best from here on out. Assistant manager isn’t an easy job, but I do trust you to get it done!”

He almost falls off the stool. “Assistant manager?!”

Holly laughs and nods. “I mean, I may as well promote you right? Considering all the extra work you do around here, and also the fact that you’re my only employee, I think you’ve earned it twice over sweetheart!”

He can’t help but squeal as he jumps off the stool, pulling Holly into a hug and rocking her back and forth in excitement.

“Thank you thank you thank you! Oh lord, I have to tell everybody, I have to make some celebration pies, I have to...” He smiles and takes a deep breath. “I gotta tell Jack.”

 

Later that night, Eric forces everybody in the house to sit down at the kitchen table as he pulls two pies from the oven, humming cheerfully as Jack stands at the counter and watches him work. He starts to serve them right away, not even bothering to wait for them to cool because he's so excited to share his news.

Jack and Eric both sit and Eric folds his hands, looking around and waiting for everybody’s attention. Since they’re all enraptured with the pie, despite it being so hot it could melt through steel, Eric clears his throat and smiles. All eyes are on him now.

He pauses for a second and lets the tension build—this is an important moment, there has to be a dramatic pause...

He takes a breath, then, “Holly promoted me to assistant manager!”

The table suddenly gets very loud. Through the noise he manages to make out Lardo saying, “Holy fuck, congrats, Bits!” and Shitty asking himself, “Wasn’t he already basically assistant manager? I’m confused.” Ransom and Holster both offer him a congratulatory fist bump and Jack just sits back, already having heard this news but still proud as anything.

The ruckus dies down, and they chatter and pick at the first pie as it cools, tearing through it in record speed and moving on to the second. In a particularly quiet moment, Jack speaks.

“I’m think I’m gonna start playing hockey again.”

Shitty starts to choke on the mouthful of pie he just tried to swallow and Eric gasps as Lardo hits him on the back until he can breathe again. Ransom looks dumbfounded and Holster has an eyebrow raised but is slow clapping regardless. Everybody is a little taken aback, to say the least.

Lardo is the first to speak. “You mean like...Okay, wait. What do you mean, exactly?”

“So, uh...The Falconers, up in Providence? They’re offering me a contract. George, the manager, told me that I probably wouldn’t get much play time—if any—during this first season, but... yeah.”

Eric beams with pride and serves him another piece of pie as everybody digests the news.

“So,” Shitty asks after draining a glass of water and clearing his throat of pie bits, “how exactly did this happen? Like, no offense Jack, but your life kinda went to shit after Samwell. What made this team want you?”

Jack sighs. “I’m not really happy about it but...Kent had been putting in good words for me for a while. He was hoping...I don’t know what he was hoping for, but I’m not gonna question it now.”

“Is this a done deal?” Ransom asks. “Like, wow, fuck, are you an NHL player now?”

Jack chuckles and shakes his head. “No, nothing is official yet, but it’s looking like things are getting ironed out. My agent is on it.”

“Shit,” Lardo breathes. “Congrats, dude, this is fucking huge!”

Jack shrugs.

Holster feigns a frown and slams a hand down. “Don’t shrug, Jack Zimmermann, you’re gonna be a big time hockey star and you’re gonna fucking let your friends be happy about it!”

Jack puts his hands up in surrender and the chatter starts up again. Eric still has his eyes on Jack, whose blue eyes are filled with happiness and comfort.

“But how about Eric’s news, right?” Jack asks after a minute, and oh, he feels bad that he stole the spotlight. Eric smiles at him in gratitude but shakes his head. He knows Jack hadn’t meant to grab attention; to him the news didn’t even feel like that big of a deal.

 

“You just _had_ to one up me, didn’t you?” Bitty asks jokingly as they’re clearing the plates, the other two couples now elsewhere.

Jack laughs once, then chirps slowly and sarcastically, “Well you make it so easy...”

Eric catches his eye and sticks his tongue out, placing the dishes in the sink and leaning against the counter. Jack does the same and faces Eric, placing his arms on either side of him and leaning in.

“I like this,” Jack says after a second. “I like you.”

It feels like it should be a dumb thing to say but coming from Jack, it causes color to rush to Eric’s cheeks.

“Well I would certainly _hope_ so, especially after...”

Jack’s face flushes slightly too at the memory of two nights ago. He has nothing else to say, so he just leans in and kisses Eric quickly, pulling at his lips as he turns and starts out of the kitchen. He stops and speaks without turning around.

“Bitty, if I do start playing for the Falconers, I...I’m not sure exactly, but I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to go public, at least not right away.”

Eric’s heart sinks. At the very least, Eric could appreciate how direct Jack always was, but once again, he was already thinking so far into the future. “Oh,” he responds, as casually as possible. “Yeah, right, of course honey! It’s no problem, we can work it out when we get to it, I’m sure?”

Jack nods and looks over his shoulder, the light in his eyes a little dimmer. Eric leans back against the counter as Jack leaves the kitchen and pulls out his phone, proactively deleting the picture he posted on Instagram of Jack driving. He also deletes all of the tweets in which he mentions Jack by name, just in case, then sighs as he pockets his phone again.

 _It's what you don't do, it's what you don't say_ _  
_ _I know you love me, I don't need proof_   
Don't tell the whole world; just wanna be your girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even plan to write this chapter so soon but then mother Ngozi had to go and drop the update on us and I had a lot of feelings so of course that means fic happened!!  
> I can't believe we're already up to chapter 20, it feels surreal honestly. This is the longest damn thing I've ever written and I'm so proud of it thus far :,)  
> (OH ALSO at this point I feel like this bears saying although maybe it was obvious the whole time: all of the songs I'm using for this fic are songs I feel Bitty would probably listen to [I headcanon him as having a similar taste in music as me] so maybe look at the songs again and see if that concept brings you any type of feelings :D)
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia  
> 18\. 90s Music // Kimbra  
> 19\. Run Away With Me // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 20\. What You Don't Do // Lianne La Havas


	21. my favorite color

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Favorite Color by Carly Rae Jepsen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gpGqGHEr_8)
> 
> NSFW Warning: The last half-ish of this chapter is pretty explicit, just to put it out there

The prospect of being Jack’s secret boyfriend is partly exhilarating and partly devastating. Of course, there’s that thrill that always accompanies a secret, that antsy feeling of being always on your toes. You have to think fast; you have to think defensively. You have to hide. Eric doesn’t want to hide. He’s been hiding his whole goddamn life and he thought that with Jack he could finally be open, he could stop hiding and stop being afraid. Things were so perfect when they went to Montreal, the casual touches and the meaningful glances, all in public. It felt right, and now Jack was asking him to throw all of that away. Maybe.

Then of course, there’s the fact that Jack will have to move to Providence. The drive isn’t that far, but he’ll be traveling too, and busy all the time. Between Eric working at the bakery and Jack’s training schedule, it’s beginning to look like they won’t have much time together. Regardless, Eric is willing to make sacrifices and suffer some if it means they get to be together. It’s the first _really_ right thing that’s happened to Eric in a long time, and he doesn’t want to let that go.

Regardless, things between them are seemingly perfect and drama free, for the time being. It’s been about a week since they got back from Canada and aside from being so adorable they could rot teeth, behind closed doors they’ve been exploring each other a little bit more, becoming familiar with each other’s bodies and touching and moving as one. They haven’t done much besides jerking each other to the point of orgasm, but Eric is perfectly fine with that. Making out with Jack becomes a staple of his nights, both of them barely clothed and the windows wide open as they melt into each other, sweaty bodies rubbing and sliding, enough friction to send sparks flying.

Eric hasn’t felt this consistently relaxed, content and sated for a long time, possibly not ever. Being with Jack makes him feel like a different person; he has to stop at least ten times a day to remind himself that it’s real, that good things really can happen. That the pain in the past was worth it.

Their conversations are long and satisfying. Jack does a lot of listening and Eric does a lot of talking, but it’s a nice balance for them. When Jack does speak, he always chooses his words so carefully, saying little but meaning so much. Already, he’s started talking about hockey, he’s telling Eric stories about the past and his accomplishments and all of the good things that have happened to him because of the sport. He also talks about some of the bad, but in a way that doesn’t worry Eric. Jack has moved on, he’s detached from the part of his life when pain was a norm and drowning was the same thing as breathing.

Being in private with Jack is such a rush, even if they’re just curled up and watching a movie on Eric’s laptop, or listening to music, or just dozing together. Jack starts coming to the bakery when Eric is working, bringing him lunch or a late breakfast if Eric doesn’t have time in the morning. Whenever there’s a spare moment, Holly is drilling Eric for details, beaming and aww-ing as he tells her about how Jack sometimes prefers to be the little spoon, or the way he never seems to want to stop touching Eric, or about how bad his hair looks right when he’s woken up.

Besides his blossoming relationship, Eric is absolutely swamped at the bakery. More and more people have taken to placing specific orders, and word about Holly’s has spread. Their business is at an all time high and the crowds fluctuate slightly but seem to be on an increasing trend. Holly is beside herself with joy, thanking Bitty multiple times a day. She doesn’t say exactly what for, but Eric thinks he understands. At the beginning of the summer Holly’s was the cute little upscale bakery that had only a few regular customers; the rate of sales wasn’t anything spectacular but people seemed to like the goods. Now though, the tables were almost always filled, the line often stretched out the door. When he isn’t making pies appear practically by magic, Eric is helping Holly at the counter. They have a second cash register now.

The mid-August heat blows through the bakery, bringing with it the scent of grass and hot pavement. People fill the space and the benches outside and their chatter is soothing, helping Eric stay relaxed in such hot, intense conditions. He craves the evenings, when the sun isn’t quite gone but its presence isn’t so obnoxious, when the temperature starts to drop slowly and the stream of customers slows to a trickle. This is when he can take his time in the kitchen, experimenting with new recipes and making changes to old ones, feeling so in his element and relaxed that before he knows it, the evening is gone and night is pressing in on the bakery. It reminds him of the beginning of the summer, when he used to work long nights just to avoid going home to sleep on Jack’s floor.

A smile creeps to his face when he considers how far the two have come in such a short time. He was convinced at the beginning that Jack despised him, maybe not necessarily for being _Bitty_ , but just his presence in the house. Jack didn’t do well with sudden change, so someone coming in and occupying his space without notice didn’t sit well with him. Eric was able to understand this, even initially.

Eric has a lot of time to think, really. His hands go without him having to focus on them, which allows him to reflect on his summer. He’d definitely classify it as the best he’s ever had, although that year when he was named head counselor at summer camp is a close second. He was so lost and alone when he stepped onto the porch of that little white house, and mere months later he has friends for life and a boy who makes his brain occasionally short circuit. He finds it so intriguing how such a dynamic can form between a group of people, and he feels extremely lucky to somehow have found a way into that dynamic. Though it’s only been one summer, Eric feels like he’s known these people forever.

“Eric, honey,” Holly says gently from the doorway, “you have a visitor.”

Eric smiles as he carefully pours the pie filling into the crust, making sure not to spill any to reduce his cleanup.

“Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes!” Eric replies, not even looking up. It’s so common an occurrence for Jack to show up at the bakery during this time of night that Bitty just assumes it’s his boyfriend.

“It, uh... It isn’t Jack, sweet pea.”

He frowns and glances over at her as he turns and slips the pie into the oven, brushing his hands on his apron and squeezing past Holly in the doorway. A few customers are still sitting at tables, enjoying pie and coffee after a Saturday night out. He looks around for a second, not seeing any familiar faces, until his eyes land on a woman sitting in the far corner of the room. He turns to Holly, who purses her lips and motions him to go ahead. He takes a deep breath and comes out from behind the counter, approaching the table.

“Mama?”

She gasps slightly and turns around, her eyes teary and her hands fussy and fiddling with her shirt.

“Dicky,” she says before standing up and throwing herself into his arms, her body weak and shaking.

“Mama, are you okay? What are you doing here?”

He hears her sniffle and feels the hot warmth of tears on his shoulder. He glances around, a little embarrassed and feeling awkward, but nobody is paying them a lick of attention. He tightens his hug and tucks his head into his mother’s shoulder, shushing her gently and helping her down into the seat. He sits down across from her and grabs her hands, waiting patiently for her to stabilize.

“I...I’m sorry to just barge in on you Dicky. I’ve been so worried ever since–” She cuts off again, a sob forcing its way out of her throat and over the table, hitting Eric like a weight.

“Mama, I’m fine. I was real shaken up at first, but everything is okay now. I’m sorry I haven’t called, or answered _your_ calls, it’s just...I’ve been real busy with all of this.” He gestures around him.

She nods and wipes her eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I just haven’t heard from you at all, and I haven’t been watching your little vlogs either, because I figured after last time that might be a violation of your privacy. You know, I’m your mother. I just get worried.”

He nods appreciatively, then gives her a sympathetic look. “I know this isn’t easy for you Mama, I get that. Um...Jack and I...”

She looks up, a little bit of hope dancing in her eyes. He just nods and she smiles, squeezing his hands.

“I’m so happy for you, Dicky. You seem really happy.”

“Mama, what are you really doing here? Is everything okay at home?”

She sighs and pulls a tissue out of her purse, dabbing her eyes and cheeks. “Your father has been angry. I think he’s just a little...confused. He still isn’t sure how to handle all of this, and he doesn’t even have any idea about Jack. I don’t want you to feel like you need to tell him anything. Lord, Dicky, I’m so sorry that I pressured you when you came home. I just figured you were ready, you know? You’re an adult now, you’ve had time to figure things out, and you seemed so sure of yourself in your vlogs and all. I guess the one who wasn’t ready was your father. I just...I screwed this one up, Eric, and I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head and stands up, moving his seat so he’s directly next to her. “No you didn’t. It’s gonna be fine Mama, Coach will get over it eventually, right?”

She presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes shut as she starts to cry. “He left, Eric.”

“He—what?”

“He’s gone. I don’t know where he went, but one day he went out for practice and just,” she grabs the pendant around her neck, the one Bitty knows has a picture of his father nestled inside, “he never came home.”

He sits back, clenching his fists and biting the inside of his lip to combat the tears starting to form. “This is my fault.”

She shakes her head hastily, grabbing his arm. “No honey, no, no, no. The issue is your father’s, don’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, except for being born a fag,” Eric spits, the anger at his father bubbling over. He hasn’t said that word out loud in his life, but he isn’t thinking rationally. He can feel frustration threatening to strangle him as his throat and chest tighten.

“Eric, stop,” his mother pleads.

He holds his tongue and refuses to say anymore. He’s trying not to be mad at her but he can’t help but feel that if she had minded her own business, everything would have been fine.

The door of the bakery opens, the tinkling of the bell suddenly irritating to Eric. He scowls as his mother sits next to him, drying her eyes again and slowing her breath.

A familiar, low voice says from behind him, “Hey, Holly. Eric in the back?”

He turns in his chair, clenching his fists again as he sees Jack standing at the counter. Holly shakes her head and glances in his direction. Jack turns, smiling at the sight of Eric, then frowning as he notices Suzanne.

Eric stands up and looks at his mother, gesturing for her to stay.

“Bitty, is everything okay?” Jack murmurs as Eric approaches, looking over Bitty’s shoulder at his mother. Eric doesn’t say anything, he just hugs Jack and presses his ear to Jack’s chest, trying to calm himself with the steady rhythm of Jack’s heartbeat. Jack instinctively strokes Bitty’s hair, soothing him until he pushes out to arm’s length and looks up at Jack.

“Is that your mom?” Jack asks. Eric nods. “Could I...Can I meet her?”

“Jack, I don’t know if this is the best time–” but he doesn’t get to finish. Suzanne is suddenly next to him, looking up at Jack, slightly awestruck.

“Hello Mrs. Bittle,” Jack says gently, holding out a hand. She smiles as she shakes it, her hand practically doll-sized compared to Jack’s.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Jack!” she says. Eric knows that tone, he’s heard it at many a PTA meeting or neighborhood picnic. It’s forced politeness with an undertone of defense; she’s being cautious. Eric can understand. He’s never had a significant other, let alone a built, six-foot-tall _man_. Despite his sad eyes and gentle ways, Jack can seem intimidating.

Eric grabs Jack’s hand and entwines his smaller fingers between Jack’s, staring his mother dead in the face. She squirms slightly but continues to smile.

“Dicky has told me so much about you already, but you’re much, uh, bigger than I pictured!”

He blushes and scratches the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. Eric squeezes his hand and gives him a silent message with his eyes, saying _I’ll be with you in a second, let me sort this out_. Jack nods and squeezes back, letting go of Bitty’s hand and going back to the counter to talk to Holly.

“Wow,” Suzanne breathes, “he’s real tall. And those eyes!”

Eric nods impatiently. “I know Mama, they pierce right into your soul and make you question your life. Can we get back to the matter at hand? How long are you here for?”

She sighs and nods. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I have a flight back home tonight, so you don’t have to worry about that. I just needed to see you in person and let you know what’s happening, and make sure that you're okay.”

Eric nods and hugs her. She clutches at the back of his shirt and he’s transported back into his childhood, the stinging reminder of the number of times he had come home crying after being called some name, or pushed on the playground. His mother never asked questions, she knew that would make it worse. She was just there with a warm hug and a fresh batch of cookies.

“He’ll come back Mama, you know that? He’s just stubborn and it’s all new and scary, but he’ll come back. He will,” Eric says, half trying to convince himself.

She sniffs and nods, kissing him on the cheek and pushing his hair back.

“Just promise me you’ll take good care of yourself, okay?” She glances over at Jack and Eric can see the flash of worry in her eyes.

“He isn’t like that. He seems all big and scary, but he’s really so sweet. He’s good to me, and...I really am happy. He makes me so happy, Mama.”

She nods, her eyes tearing up slightly again. “Alright honey. I love you, and I’m proud of you for finally coming into your own. I was worried you might be a little lost after college.”

“I was,” Bitty breathes, looking over his shoulder at Jack. His boyfriend is talking to Holly, looking unusually animated and excited for some reason. He’s wearing his favorite red shirt, or maybe it’s Bitty’s favorite, but either way it clings to Jack’s arms as he makes small gestures, probably telling a story.

Suzanne places a hand on Eric’s cheek and kisses his forehead.

“I love you. I’ll call soon,” he promises.

“A promise is a promise Dicky, and you really better mean _soon_.”

“I know, I know!” he says, chuckling and pulling her into one last hug.

He watches as she leaves, his heart heavy and his throat still tight. Jack’s hand is suddenly on his shoulder and some of the weight in his chest lifts.

“I think it’s time to get out of here, eh?”

 

Jack driving Bitty home after work is another common occurrence that has seemed to make its way into their routine. Jack likes to take the long way.

Lately Jack has been experimenting with new music during drives, but sometimes they sit quietly and just be together, the world around them flying past. Tonight is one of those nights. Jack is particularly adept at knowing when and when not to press an issue, so he hasn’t asked Bitty about his mother’s presence.

When Jack passes the house, Eric frowns and looks back. “Uh, Jack? You just passed it sweetheart.”

Jack nods, quickly glancing at Eric. “I know.” His grip on the wheel looks a little tight, but Eric doesn’t ask any questions as Jack continues to drive. The only sound is the wind rushing through Bitty’s hair, whistling through his ears. He wishes the summer air could pluck the distress from his mind and carry it away, out into the blue-black sky. Eric finds himself dozing off slightly until the truck comes to a stop.

“Jack, are you gonna explain now?”

“Not yet. Just wait here.”

Eric huffs quietly and curls up in his seat, trying to get a look at their surroundings. From what he can tell, Jack’s parked the truck in the middle of a large field of unusually tall grass. They’re away from buildings, and people, and lights. The stars are beckoning to Eric, twitching in the sky as if to invite him to go and shine with them.

Finally, Jack opens the passenger side door and helps Bitty down and out of the truck.

“Jack, what–”

Jack shushes him gently, grabbing his hand and leading him around to the back of the truck. Eric is taken aback when he sees a collection of blankets and pillows in the bed of the truck, as well as a single lit candle.

Jack grins at him. “I thought this might be nice. Just the two of us out here with the stars and the moon.”

“Jesus, Jack,” Bitty breathes. It hits him now that he doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want Jack to leave, even if it means he won’t get to go back to playing hockey. He knows how selfish it is, but he feels like time is running out for them. He relishes in their routine, the consistency and the dependability, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready for that to change.

Jack gently pushes him toward the lip of the bed and when Bitty starts to push himself up, Jack grabs his waist and lifts him the rest of the way. Bitty giggles and Jack then pushes himself up too, both of them falling backwards into the fort of comfort that Jack has built. Through more laughter, Eric manages to find Jack’s hand and grab onto it, so sure that Jack’s grip is the only thing keeping him from floating away.

After a moment they’re both still, breathing quietly, hand in hand. A small smile is chiseled into Eric’s face, and this smile feels permanent. _Jack_ feels permanent. Eric rolls over onto his side and curls his body against Jack’s, laying his head on Jack’s chest. One of Jack’s hand lazily travels up and down Bitty’s side, sending chills through his body despite the muggy August night. Eric can see fireflies blinking in the field and everything is so still and calm, the sounds of insects and wind through the tall grass a soundtrack to their love.

When Jack kisses him, it feels somehow different. It’s slow and patient, like they have all the time in the world. A little bit of panic rises in Eric’s chest, because that isn’t true, time is running out for them. Soon enough things will change, Jack will be gone. Maybe he won’t _really_ be gone, but in some ways it already feels like he is. The panic pushes its way through Eric’s body and comes to a stop in his face, stinging his eyes with warm tears. Jack stops kissing him and places a hand on his cheek.

“Bitty, do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head as another tear falls, then bites his lip and changes his mind. “I just… Jack, my dad disappeared on my mom, and it’s my fault. He’ll come back when he’s ready, I know he will, but I can’t help but feel responsible. He’s mad at her for being alright with this.”

Jack frowns sympathetically and runs a thumb along Bitty’s cheek, wiping a tear away. “Okay, it’s okay Bits, I’ve got you,” Jack says quietly, his whisper almost blending with the sound of the wind around them. Eric starts to cry again as he clings to Jack’s red shirt, allowing his emotions to release like a damn in a flood. This release to be such a painful thing, something he avoided at almost all costs, but it feels cathartic and good with Jack’s arms around him.

Jack stays quiet, pressing kisses into Bitty’s hair and rubbing his back until his eyes are dry again.

“Thank you,” Bitty murmurs, going to press his lips to Jack’s jawline. Jack turns his head at the last second and their lips collide.

 _Hold on now, this is getting kinda serious_ _  
_ _This is getting kinda out of control, out of control_

Eric tries to breathe in but finds that once again, Jack’s lips have taken all oxygen right from his lungs. He sucks on Jack’s lower lip as he swings one leg over him, his knees on either of Jack’s sides. Jack pulls him downward and he grunts involuntarily, their lips never separating.

 _Slow down now, breathing heavy when it's just a kiss_ _  
_ _This is getting kinda out of my hands, out of my hands_

Jack’s hands are on his back and he can smell Jack’s deodorant, he can smell the grass and the air and the fresh aroma of summer, and he can smell the familiar and somewhat comforting odor of gasoline from the truck. He can feel Jack’s heart beating underneath one of his hands, fast and excited. His own heart feels like it may burst.

Their teeth bump together and they bite at lips, tongues lost in the craze of the kiss. It’s desperate and needy and Eric only removes his lips from Jack’s when he really does need to breathe again. He looks down at his boyfriend, panting as moonlight reflects off Jack’s irises and his eyes seem to dance. It reminds Bitty of the drive home after their day-trip. Now that everything has changed, that seems so, so long ago.

 _Please don't go_   
_Look real close_   
_Eyes that show kaleidoscopes_

Jack sits up slightly and Eric rolls off of him, getting the hint. Jack then assumes the same position Eric had just been in, legs on either side of Bitty’s small body, his weight keeping Eric grounded. He kisses him again and Eric can feel a new intensity behind it, an aching desire that he doesn’t _quite_ feel himself but can definitely acknowledge. Jack pulls at Eric’s shirt, pulling it off as far as he can before taking his lips away, just for a fleeting moment. He fumbles with the button on Eric’s jeans and Eric grinds up slightly against Jack’s groin, gasping as Jack kisses his neck and pulls the pants off.

 _Should I stay? Making love until the morning light?_   
_Making out like it's the end of the world_   
_And I really wanna get it right_

Eric’s arms reach behind him to grab the blanket but his hand finds something else, small and square. He grabs it and holds it in front of his face, his eyes widening. Even in the semi-darkness, he can see Jack is blushing.

“Jack, is this a condom?”

Jack pauses for a second, licking his lips.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just thought it might be safe to–”

Eric doesn’t let him finish. He pulls Jack back down to kiss him and lets the condom drop next to him. They don’t have the time to wait for this moment, Eric doesn’t have the time to talk himself into it. He just has to do it. He wants to do it.

He grabs at Jack’s shirt, that damn red shirt, and smirks as he pulls it off. “You know this red shirt drives me crazy?”

Jack smirks and kisses him again, saying, “Why do you think I wear it so often?”

_But it's getting hard to slow down now_

_Got me feeling like it's real for sure_

_This is getting kinda out of my head_

_I'm out of my head_

Eric huffs a laugh and wraps his arms around Jack’s shoulders, Jack pulling him off his back and into his lap; his skin is smooth and warm. Bitty is making little noises in the back of his throat as Jack continues to kiss him relentlessly. Eric tries to push his hardening dick against Jack’s, but his position on Jack’s lap isn’t allowing for that, so instead he ends up finding friction against Jack’s stomach. Jack moans and breaks the kiss again, undoing the button on his own pants and taking them off, readjusting Bitty as he does so.

“Bitty,” Jack moans, Eric’s ass so close to his dick now, only two thin layers of cloth separating them.

Eric kisses him again, hungry and open mouthed, their tongues dancing gracefully around each other, not battling but coexisting.

Jack sets Bitty down on his back and tugs his underwear off, using his eyes to invite Bitty to do the same. Eric slides his hand down Jack’s back and they come to a stop at the waistband. He hooks his thumbs underneath and pulls down slowly, torturously, his hands brushing over Jack’s ass as he does. Jack’s back arches and they’re both completely exposed now, completely bare and open to each other.

Before Jack can kiss him again, Bitty murmurs, “What if somebody catches us?”

Jack shakes his head. “Nobody ever comes out here. We’ll be fine.”

Eric nods and Jack’s hand comes to rest on his chest as he reaches around and grips Jack’s butt, pulling him downward and creating friction between their dicks. Jack moans and buries his head in Eric’s shoulder, thrusting his hips along with Bitty’s strong movements.

“Jack, I want you to...” Eric whispers, his heart racing. “I want you to fuck me now.” He can’t believe the words are coming out of his mouth.

Jack’s hips stutter slightly and he lets out what sounds almost like a growl as he nips at Eric’s collarbone. Eric shudders as the length of Jack’s erection slides along his and Jack kisses him one more time on the mouth.

Jack’s hands quickly turn Eric onto his stomach, and he feels more vulnerable now than ever. Jack’s hands are on his ass, spreading Bitty’s cheeks apart before he goes to lap at his hole gently with his tongue, warm and heavy. Eric doesn’t argue, he knows that Jack will have to do some prepping before actually fucking him.

Jack rims him more enthusiastically than Eric thought possible, making little moaning noises as he works. The feeling is unreal, intimate, wet and warm and he tenses, until Jack’s clear enjoyment and the tingling buzz spreading through his body drive the anxiety away. Jack is thorough and careful and he seems to be really enjoying himself from how vocal he is. Eric gasps, and then yelps when Jack’s soft, warm tongue is replaced by a hard, cold finger. It stops, too much friction, so Jack groans and reaches out in front of where Eric’s head is, procuring a bottle of lube from underneath a blanket. Eric hisses as the cold liquid hits his ass and Jack gently uses a finger to start working it in.

Eric had thought he was prepared for this. But his body responds differently to someone else’s touch, and Jack stops often, waiting for the spasms to subside as Eric’s body adapts to the intrusion.

Once Jack has a whole finger inside, he carefully pulls it out and adds another, Eric whimpers, overwhelmed by the sensation. Jack works gently at the muscles, until Eric stops tensing and starts rocking his hips to encourage _more._ He’s pushing up into Jack’s fingers now, his back arched to the point of almost being painful. He feels so full and stretched, but when Jack pulls his fingers out he lets out a whine.

Jack leans down and whispers in his ear, “I want to hold you. Wanna see your face.” Eric nods and carefully turns himself over as Jack finds the condom and rips the wrapper open, pinching the end and rolling the rubber over his length hastily.

Jack adds lube to the tip of the condom, and leans over Bitty, and smiles. “Ready?”

Bitty nods. Jack puts a hand down and the warming lube slides slick against his hole as Jack presses the head of his cock there. Even with the prep, it is so, so much when the head slides in at first. Jack watches as Bitty’s eyes widen, and stops.

“You okay there?”

Bitty nods. There is this wild tension thrilling through his whole body, a sense that more than anything that has happened in his life, there is before this moment, and after this moment, and nothing will ever be quite the same.

Jack _leans_ a little, and presses in, the slick of the lube easing the way, and Bitty’s head rolls back and he gasps at the stretch of it, the burn. Something inside him spasms, and he yelps.

Jack stops again, just holding the position. “Bits, I can stop if it’s too much.”

“Don’t you dare. Just... go slow.”

“You sure?” Jack asks, almost laughing as Bitty catches his breath and then looks at him.

“Jack Zimmermann, if there was ever a bad time to chirp me, I swear...”

Jack presses again, and Bitty does swear, his hands scrabbling at the blanket under him. “Keep going,” he hisses.

After a few patient moments, Eric can feel Jack fully inside him and he starts to lose track of sensations and words and sounds as Jack starts to move.  At first he feels each movement, but it starts to blur, the sensations spreading through his body and a breathy cry escaping Bitty’s lips with each thrust. It’s all fire and tingling and Jack pressed against him and in him and he doesn’t know where he ends and Jack begins.

 _When I'm close to you we blend into my favorite color_ _  
_ _I'm bright baby blue, falling into you, falling for each other_

Jack’s head is thrown back in pleasure, his eyes wide and beautiful in the darkness, the single flame from the candle flickering in his pupils. Eric knows he won’t last much longer and clings to Jack’s neck, breathing in deeply—memorizing Jack’s scent, though how he could ever forget he doesn’t know.

Jack’s movements start to become a little erratic and shaky as he nears the end too, desperately thrusting at a faster tempo. Jack comes with a strangled gasp and it’s enough to set Bitty off too; his orgasm covers both of their chests and he’s making sounds he didn’t know he was even capable of.

They stay in that position for a few seconds, breathing heavily. A smile dances across Bitty’s lips as he kisses Jack gingerly, pressing his forehead to the older boy’s.

“I...I love you,” Jack whispers.

His muscles seize up and the night wind almost carries the words away from him. He shudders and takes a labored breath.

“Say it again.”

“Eric, I love you.”

It isn’t the sex, it isn’t the rush to be together while they still have time. Eric just knows. As soon as the words cross Jack’s lips and make their way to his brain, he knows in the deepest part of his bones that he loves Jack too, and if he can help it, he’ll never have to love anybody else.

“I love you, too,” he breathes.

_Paint me up, me up, me up_

_You're my favorite color_

Once they’re mostly cleaned up and dressed, they return to their positions on their backs, looking back up at the stars. They all seem a little brighter now, but they aren’t calling to Eric anymore. He knows he belongs right here in the back of this truck.

“I have to leave Boston,” Jack says suddenly, his tone nervous but quiet.

“Jack, what?”

“I made things official today, with the Falconers I mean.”

Eric sits up, his eyes wide and joyful. “Sweet lord, I don’t think this night can get any better for us, can it? When are you going?”

Jack sits up too, frowning a little bit. “Two weeks. My parents are gonna help me hunt for an apartment in Providence starting Monday.”

Eric is beyond happy, of course he is, but the reality is setting in too. Two weeks.

“So...that’s it then? All we have left is 14 days?”

Jack shakes his head and knits his brows together. “No, stop that. It’s—Eric we can find a way to do this. We’re gonna make this work. It’s worth it, _you’re worth it_.”

Eric nods, but he feels crestfallen. This was coming, he already knew this was going to happen, but the fact that it’s so real is too much for him to handle.

“I’m happy for you, Jack.”

Jack smiles and puts his head back down, one arm behind his neck and the other grabbing Bitty’s hand.

“So, Dicky, eh?”

Eric smacks his shoulder and laughs, the jubilant sound carrying out into the field and up to the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, another chapter I've been planning from the beginning. Especially after the update, I've been super excited to write this chapter and I hope as a gay I did a pretty ok job of writing gay sex lmao I'm a little nervous about posting my first like _legit_ smut scene.  
>  Side note: The title song for this chapter is one of my favorite songs of all time, there's something about it to me that's so epic and emotional so naturally I had to use it for this big chapter (and also because of the color motif of course) :D
> 
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia  
> 18\. 90s Music // Kimbra  
> 19\. Run Away With Me // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 20\. What You Don't Do // Lianne La Havas  
> 21\. Favorite Color // Carly Rae Jepsen


	22. wrap me in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Hollow by Tori Kelly](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsbcKoRAiF4)

Eric wakes up the next morning with a weight in his chest that he can’t quite place. Jack isn’t in their bed, but by now he’s gotten used to slipping away in his arms and coming back to find him missing. He’s always running.

The words they exchanged are imprinted into his mind; he can still replay Jack’s voice as he said, “I love you.” He can hear his own voice saying it back, quiet but so, _so_ sure. He can hear the crickets, an owl in the distance, the sound of Jack’s breathing. All of this makes him feel impossibly light, so the heaviness is off-putting.

He still remembers the feeling of Jack’s hand in his, keeping him grounded. He had never thought much about what losing his virginity would be like, and he hadn’t seen it coming by any means, but he doesn’t feel any immediate regrets. His body actually feels _different_ , a pleasant soreness radiating from muscles used in new ways. He feels something else though, and not being able to place the feeling is slightly infuriating...

He stills remembers dozing off, the smell of a burning candle tickling his senses and luring him into peaceful bliss. It was at this moment Eric realized his boyfriend is the biggest sap in the world—the blankets and pillows, the candle, the starry field in the middle of nowhere? It was something straight out of one of his Mama’s romance novels, though Bitty had never really been able to relate to those. Too many straight people.

He recalls waking up to Jack’s body curled around his, surrounded by nothing but darkness and chilled summer wind and each other. The blankets came in handy, and despite the fact they were in the bed of a truck, Eric had considered suggesting they just sleep there. He hadn’t wanted the moment to end, and probably Jack didn’t either, because the older boy had waited until Eric’s eyes were dripping with sleep before carefully picking him up and strapping him into the passenger side of the truck.

Eric gets out of bed and draws the curtains, blinking in the glare of the rising sun. He can hear the sounds of life downstairs if he listens carefully; a chair scraping against the floor, silverware clinking against a plate, a faucet running. Laughter. He looks at the sky for a few minutes, thankful for the large clouds that are now covering up the sun and sparing his pupils, then joins his friends downstairs.

“Ay, there’s my dude! You got home late last night, Bits!” Shitty says as Bitty comes into the kitchen. He blushes and wraps one hand around the other wrist, fighting the color rising to his face.

“Jack and I went for a drive,” he replies, mustering as much innocence as possible.

“Does he make you pay for gas, because I fucking swear, he’s always driving you somewhere. I think you two have spent more time in that car together than the house.”

“He seemed awfully chipper this morning,” Ransom adds as an afterthought when Eric doesn’t respond right away.

Holster starts to chirp Ransom for using the word 'chipper’ and Eric laughs, shrugging as he shuffles to the fridge. He digs through and finds the carton of eggs and some peppers and spinach, gathering the ingredients up and dumping them onto the counter. He can feel all eyes on his back and he tries to relax as he starts cutting up the peppers for an omelet, attempting to massage any doubts from his mind with the rhythmic and familiar sound of the sharp knife on the cutting board. He’s so distracted that doesn’t realize until he looks down and sees blood that he’s cut himself.

“Ouch, _Crisse_ ,” he mutters angrily, banging the knife down and moving to the sink. He hears the chairs at the table all move simultaneously then the sound of people leaving the room. He winces as he runs his finger under the warm water; the cut isn’t deep, but it stings nonetheless. He feels a small hand between his shoulder blades and squeezes his eyes shut.

Lardo’s voice is small and concerned. “Bits, talk to me. The boys went upstairs and Jack won’t be back for a little while, so it’s just us, yeah?”

He makes sure the cut is clean before turning off the tap and drying his hands, finding a box of bandaids in one of the kitchen drawers and applying one to the wound as Lardo waits patiently. He picks up the knife again and she sighs, stepping up to the counter and slowly pushing his hand down.

“I thought you were done with this shit.”

“Done with what?”

“Don’t fucking play, Bits. I’m worried. Everybody’s worried. You seem off this morning, and now you’re not talking again. _What happened last night_?” Her question demands to be answered and he knows it isn’t worth fighting, so Bitty puts down the knife and leans against the counter.

“Jack and I...” he says, his voice breaking. Worry rushes into Lardo’s eyes.

“Oh fuck. Did you two, like, break up or something?”

“What?! No, Lardo, we...We had sex.”

“Oh!” she says, surprised and relieved. Then again, gentler, somehow understanding a little better, “Oh...”

Eric nods and runs a hand through his hair, his feet cold against the kitchen floor and his knees a little shaky. “And...he told me that he loves me. I said it back.”

“Well is that true?”

“Yes. I know it is, I’ve never been so sure of something. But Lards, he’s leaving for Providence in _two weeks_. He just dropped this bomb on me last night after it happened, and I can’t help but feel like maybe we’re rushing things a little.”

“ _What?!_ He’s leaving?”

Eric nods, a tear dripping onto the edge of the counter. So that’s where the heaviness is coming from. “He made things official with the Falconers, he starts looking for apartments tomorrow,” he says, his voice shaking. She hugs him around his waist and rests a head on his shoulder.

“It isn’t that far Bits, probably not even an hour away.”

“I know, but it’s not like I’ll be able to go and visit him any old time! I have my job, he’s gonna have lots of training and practice.” He groans. “I’m happy for him, I’m _so_ happy, but just when things were finally going right for me… He told me that once he starts playing, we’re gonna have to keep us a secret, and I don’t know if I can–”

“You need to stop thinking like that, Bits. If there’s one thing you should know about Jack by now, it’s that the dude is fucking dedicated. Especially to you. He’s gonna make time, and Holly is gonna help you make time, and given a little _time_ maybe it won’t have to be a secret anymore.” Lardo puts emphasis on the word time. She’s telling him to have patience.

“I guess,” he says, still not convinced.

“Stop defeating yourself before you’ve even started. If you don’t go in with the right attitude, then there’s no way it _won’t_ fall apart, but if there are two people I know can make this work, it’s you and Jack.”

_I don't wanna be the last man standing_

_I don't wanna be the lonely one_

_Picking petals when the party's over, no it's not any fun_

Bitty hears the front door open and hastily wipes his eyes, picking up the knife again and returning to the cutting board.

“This damn pepper has blood on it,” he mutters as Lardo rubs his back and Jack comes into the kitchen.

“Morning!” Jack says, and though he would never personally use the word ‘chipper,’ Eric has to agree that it fits perfectly. Jack is breathing a little heavily and smiling, his face slightly flushed and his hair damp under the hat he’s wearing.

“Cold morning, clouds are blocking the sun,” he says as he removes the hat, sitting down at the table. “Where is everyone?”

“Upstairs, I think,” Lardo says, trying not to sound like they were just talking about Jack. He’s wearing a dark purple hoodie that clashes absolutely horrendously with those damn yellow shoes he likes to wear when jogging, and at the sight Bitty feels that weight in his body increase.

“Do you want an omelet?” Bitty asks as casually as he can.

“Sure Eric, thanks.”

Lardo raises an eyebrow at Jack’s ‘ _Eric_ ’ but doesn’t say anything. She gives Bitty another quick hug before leaving the room and then Bitty and Jack are alone again, a certain tension roped between their hearts like a string. Bitty can feel it without even looking at Jack, and until now the line has been pulled taut and secure. Now though, he feels that the line may be stretching. Jack is pulling in a different direction.

Eric makes two omelets as quickly as possible, plating them and turning around to put them on the table. Jack is smiling at him and he feels like he’s going to throw up, no longer hungry.

He sets a plate down in front of Jack and sits down across from him, shaky and lightheaded. Jack frowns.

“Bitty, are you okay?”

“Um. I don’t know honestly.”

Jack drops his fork and his face drops in worry so fast it’s almost comical. He gets up and moves to the seat next to Eric, putting a hand on his knee.

“Is this about last night?”

Eric sighs. “Yeah,” he says, then when Jack’s eyes widen he quickly adds, “but not in the way you think! I don’t regret it Jack, not any of it. I...I love you, I really do. I meant it when I said it, it wasn’t just the pressure or the endorphins or whatever. It’s the morning after, all of that is done and over with. Here we are, and I still love you. I just...”

His mind flashes back to the conversation he overheard between Jack and his mother Alicia, one he was never meant to hear. Jack was relying on him for his support, Eric was the entire reason Jack felt so sure and safe about going back to hockey. He couldn’t let him down.

“You know what? It’s nothing, I’m just being silly. It’s all a lot to take in, and I think it’s messing with my head.”

_'Cause I'm fragile_

_And you know this_

“Bitty, you can tell me whatever you’re thinking, it’s _me._ ”

“I know, and I just did.”

One of Jack’s eyebrows quirks slightly but he doesn’t say anything else.

Eric sighs in exasperation. “Really Jack, I’m fine. Eat your omelet, honey.” He feels bad about lying to Jack, especially when this secret has more than one layer. He doesn’t want this relationship to be built on lies, but he doesn’t want to dissuade Jack from doing what he loves, he wants Jack to be happy and comfortable.

“Here we are, and I still love you.” Jack says quietly, echoing Bitty’s words before leaning in and kissing him, a slight taste of salt on Jack’s lips and all the love in his world bursting behind his closed eyes.

_So hold me_

_Wrap me in love, fill up my cup_

_Empty, and only your love can fill up my cup_

_'Cause I'm hollow, yeah I'm hollow_

“You know it won’t be forever right?” Jack whispers as their lips separate only slightly, just enough for him to speak. “You won’t be a secret forever. I just don’t want drama right at the beginning, and it hurts me so much to know that it affects you so negatively Bitty, but...”

Eric shushes him, kissing him again. “I understand, Jack. We’re both making sacrifices here, sweetheart. I’m sorry if I worried you, but I want to do this with you.”

Jack nods and kisses him again, gently smiling and cupping Bitty’s cheek as he pulls away. Eric smiles back, the tension on his heartstring releasing just slightly. Jack is here, he’s _present_. His touch makes the back of Bitty’s neck tingle. Jack is tangible, and that’s what matters.

_I don't wanna be the first one folding_

_I don't wanna be the joker heart_

_Tell me darling will you understand me, and not show me your cards_

_'Cause I'm paper thin_

_And you make me whole again_

 

It isn’t easy to work when Eric knows Jack is in Rhode Island with his parents, searching for a place where he’ll be spending the next chapter of his life. They actually had asked Eric if he wanted to come along, but he’d felt that as Assistant Manager of Holly’s, he needed to try to make up for some of his lost time. He goes through the motions of his day, taking orders and switching to autopilot when back in the kitchen, occasionally getting texts from Jack with pictures of beautiful, fully furnished apartments. Eric can already start to picture it; driving up to Providence for a weekend maybe, staying with Jack, exploring the city, exploring each other. No breaches of privacy, no noisy roommates, just one apartment for the two of them to share.

Of course, it doesn’t help that Jack is also sending pictures of some of the most gorgeous kitchens Eric has ever seen. Holly scolds him a few times for being on his phone while working, and he apologizes, but it doesn’t stop him from scrolling through all of the different shots when he gets the chance, his chest tightening and his shoulders tense. The pictures make it more real that Jack is really moving out, and Bitty is going to be left behind. That’s how he feels, even though he knows it’s selfish.

Jack is leaving him behind, like an anchor in Boston, so he can float without worry up in Providence. You don’t worry about the anchor once it’s beneath the water, you don’t even think about it. It just keeps the boat where it’s supposed to be. But this anchor needs to breathe, and he isn’t sure how long he’ll be able to stay submerged.

 

Sleeping in an empty bed is wrong. He's only semi-aware of the fact that he’s crying, clutching his pillow, wearing Jack’s purple hoodie from earlier that morning. It smells like Jack just back from a run, and it’s a scent so raw and real that Bitty is able to trick himself into believing that Jack is there with him still, holding him, running fingers through his hair and down his back.

He starts to second guess himself and he can’t sleep—his mind is wide awake. What if he isn’t able to do it? He’s never had something quite this good, he’s never gotten anywhere close, and now it feels like it’s crumbling between his fingers. He wants to freeze the clock, he wants to ignore the inevitable rotation of this rock around the sun and focus on his own sun, his own rotation. Nothing else should matter, nothing else _does_ matter. It doesn’t hit him until now how much he needs Jack. Maybe he’s always needed him. Maybe he was in love with him from the moment he heard the low hum of his voice, the moment he saw the blue pools under a stormy exterior, pools that beckon Eric to dive. He can’t pinpoint the moment he fell in love with Jack Zimmermann, because maybe he hasn’t stopped falling just yet. Even so, Eric is absolutely certain of one thing: he isn’t ready to hit the ground, but it feels like the pavement is approaching.

_I confess my weakness, 'til you pick up the parts that are broken_

_Pour out your perfection on me now_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would apologize about the fact that this chapter is a little shorter than the rest have been lately, but honestly this fic is getting so long that I don't really think it's that big a deal :P  
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia  
> 18\. 90s Music // Kimbra  
> 19\. Run Away With Me // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 20\. What You Don't Do // Lianne La Havas  
> 21\. Favorite Color // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 22\. Hollow // Tori Kelly


	23. you're ripped at every edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Colors by Halsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGulAZnnTKA)  
> (quick trigger warning for some drug use in this chapter)

Lying to himself is easier than he thought it would be.

Jack isn’t in Rhode Island, he’s just out for a run. _That’s_ why he’s gone from their bed when Eric’s eyes flutter open. Jack didn’t sleep in a hotel with his parents last night, he just came to bed late and Eric was already asleep. But the absence of the dip in his pillow where his head would usually go is telling a different story. The pictures of apartments and Jack’s parents and a cup of coffee at an outdoor cafe all come to Eric from a separate reality, one in which he has to let go.

At work, he keeps telling himself that Jack is going to stop in at any moment. Eric would get in the passenger seat of his beat-up truck and they’d take another drive, not going anywhere in particular, but still together. At the end of the day though, he walks home alone as the sun is setting behind him, the sky a brilliant purple and pink, but the colors are muted in his eyes.

When he gets home, he tells himself that Jack is probably at the grocery store, knowing perfectly well that Bitty needs more butter and eggs for the rest of the week because Jack has grown so accustomed to Bitty’s baking habits. In a few hours though, the fridge sadly isn’t stocked with ingredients, there isn’t the smell of an oven preheating or flour on Eric’s clothes.

Jack isn’t moving to Providence, his home is in this little white house with Eric, and their friends. Moving would be a step in the wrong direction, a foot off the path, a wrong turn.

So yes, it’s easy to lie to himself, but believing those lies is a whole different story.

Jack is gone for a week. The days blend together, seconds and minutes and hours blurring together in Eric’s mind. His hands are covered in flour, or shoved into his pockets to stop them from shaking, or gripping the sheets on his empty bed until his knuckles are white. It’s like withdrawal, a sensation so constant and powerful that he can’t think about anything else. It isn’t even that communication has been cut completely; Jack still texts him here and there and tries to call Bitty every night that he’s gone, but his voice, as tangible as it may seem, can’t compare to the way it feels when Eric is wrapped up in his touch.

Shitty makes an attempt to help on Thursday, day four of living without Jack. He sits Eric down in the kitchen before he can leave for work and refuses to let him leave until they’ve talked.

“Talk to me, Bits,” he says, trying to sound casual and friendly. Eric can see right through the guise, he can hear the concern.

“What is there to talk about?”

Shitty scoffs. “Alright, Bitty, I get that things are tricky right now. This is your first love, yeah? And this has been hard because with Jack gone, it makes it seem more real that you’re gonna have to say goodbye. But that shit isn’t permanent, it’s not like he’s leaving forever.”

“But what if he does?”

Shitty sighs and pulls Eric in for a hug. He would cry, but he doesn't have any more tears. His eyes and his heart are tired.

“I know he’s been sorta unpredictable lately, but it’s obvious he’s head over heels for you, brah. I can’t lie to you, it’s gonna be hard in the beginning. We’re here for you though, you just have to stop shutting us out.”

“ _I know_...I know,” Eric repeats, more gently. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so natural for me, my whole life, to completely shut down. I’m not used to people caring.”

Shitty smiles sympathetically. “Get used to it, little dude, we’re not going anywhere.” Eric nods and musters a smile, one laden with weariness but a smile regardless. “Anything else bothering you?”

He shrugs.

“How are you feeling about what happened in the truck?”

Eric frowns and Shitty’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Lardo told me about it the other day.”

“What? Why would she–”

“Because she’s fucking worried, Eric. I’m sorry if I’m intruding, but if that has anything to do with it and you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

Eric releases some of the tension in his body, trying to take deep and even breaths. “I’ve been lying to myself a lot. And I think I lied to Jack, too.”

“Okay, what about?”

“I regret it. All of it. In the moment it felt so right, ya know? The emotions and the night and Jack and everything just...it all got to me and I went along with it because it felt like the thing I was supposed to do. Even the morning after, it still felt right. It was...It was wrong though. We rushed things, and now I–”

He chokes on his words, the sound from his throat ceasing. He blinks and bites the inside of his cheek, trying again.

“I can’t take it back and I can’t undo it. I love him though. I love him so much, Shitty.”

“I know, Bits. And he feels the same about you.”

“Lord,” Bitty breathes, “everything is so fucked...” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, and his palm comes to rest against his cheek. “I’m stuck on all of the what-ifs. What if I hadn’t been so dumb all summer and said something to him sooner? What if we actually had time to let a relationship happen before he ran off to be a hockey player?”

“You can’t let yourself get hung up on the past. It’s done, it’s over, all you can do is accept the present and try to build the best future possible. That’s not gonna happen if all you can think about are the what-ifs.”

The rest of the week is monotonous. Holly doesn’t say anything to Bitty but he can tell that she wants to. He catches the worried looks, he notices that she lets him go home sooner, come into work a little later. There’s a silent mutual understanding between them though; Holly knows it’s best not to mention Jack for the time being and Bitty does his best to pick up any slack in the bakery. When he’s at work, there are moments when he forgets about Jack, he forgets about the fact that he’s miles away searching for a new home.

He thinks back to the beginning of the summer, when working at the bakery was fun, it was easy work. It would still be fun if not for all of his external issues, he thinks. But there’s nothing easy about it anymore. They’re getting myriads of custom orders, the general public still hasn’t stopped raving about Bitty’s various creations. People from all around New England are visiting Holly’s bakery and there’s rarely a moment when the two of them can even breathe. Holly found a way to pack more tables into the bakery’s interior and there are more benches outside now. She hasn’t told Eric explicitly, but he’s fairly certain she’s started interviewing people for jobs. He can’t blame her, and while he agrees that more help would make things easier, there’s something about adding more people into the equation that makes his skin crawl. Things just _work_ with him and Holly, they’ve settled into such a perfect groove and they both know exactly what the other is thinking. He doesn’t want to ruin that, but from a business perspective more employees are looking necessary.

Holly is also quiet all week, constantly looking...conflicted? Guilty? Some kind of combination? Eric can’t pin it down because he’s so overwhelmed with baking and manning the register, but both of them seem to be off their equilibrium.

Eric sleeps the entire day on Sunday, something he can’t remember ever having done before. He goes to bed on Saturday night after being forced to join in game night with his friends, and when he wakes up he feels a mixture of refreshed and disoriented. The early morning sunlight is already blinding, as is the screen of his phone when he goes to check the time. He frowns at the date, because he’s definitely sure that it’s the 14th but his phone confidently displays the number 15. He shrugs and slips out of bed, trying to shake the dependable early morning boyfriend thoughts out of his head. He still isn’t exactly sure when Jack is coming home, but every day that passes is another day without him, and another day closer to this temporary pain becoming his reality.

Lardo frowns when Bitty sluggishly comes into the kitchen and yawns, opening the fridge and rummaging for some breakfast ideas.

“Uh, Bits? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?”

“On a Sunday? No, I don’t–” He gasps, then frowns, then chuckles as he puts the pieces together. “Wait...is it Monday?”

“Correct.”

“Y’all let me sleep for over 30 damn hours?”

Lardo looks at him defensively. “Well you probably needed it, you grump, now go shower and get ready. I’ll walk with you today.”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically, because Lardo has never volunteered to make the early morning walk to the bakery before. He isn’t going to turn down the offer though.

He passes Shitty on the stairs, who stops him and offers to give him a ride to work. He politely declines, but that offer makes him scratch his head, too. He gets that his friends are worried, but why are they suddenly offering to be so helpful? Why not earlier in the week?

The answer comes later that night when Bitty has started on some lemon bars in the kitchen back at home. Once they’re in the oven, he plans to start dinner too, but before he can even decide what he wants to make he finds that his friends are abandoning him for the night.

Lardo screws her face up in apology and Shitty sighs. “We’ve been planning a double date for a while now Bits, and this is the first night in a while that all of us were free. Although what’s been tying Ransom and Holster up is...beyond me.” She gives them a strange glance.

They give each other a knowing look but manage to keep down their laughter. Lardo continues.

“We would have invited you, but Jack still isn’t back and being a fifth wheel might be–”

“Awkward, yeah, I get it. Y’all go have fun, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Holster nods and pats him on the back, Lardo kisses him on the cheek. She whispers “sorry,” but he waves her off. Maybe a night alone is needed anyway.

 

He _thinks_ it’ll be a night alone anyway. Once the lemon bars are in the oven he starts flipping through an old cookbook, one he got from his mother, trying to see if any recipes jump out at him. He jumps when he hears an erratic pounding on the front door and stops for a second. It can’t be his friends who are out to dinner; he just checked Lardo’s snapchat story and they just got to the restaurant. It can’t be Jack, because he would have let Bitty know if he was coming home. He tries to go through other possibilities as he walks out of the kitchen and to the door, but as he opens it he still doesn’t have the faintest idea about who it could be.

When he sees Kent Parson on the porch of his house, Eric’s first instinct is to slam the door in his face. He almost does too, until he notices how sweaty Kent is, how much his hands are shaking. His skin is so pale that he looks gray and his eyes are wide and frantic; the dark circles underneath so pronounced against his ashen skin.

“Jack,” he says hoarsely, and Bitty understands it as a question.

“He isn’t here right now Kent. Is everything...are you okay?”

Kent shakes his head and grabs the front of Bitty’s shirt, licking his dry lips and trembling. “When...will he be back?” he asks. Eric can almost feel the pain in Kent’s voice.

“I–I don’t know. Kent, what the hell is going on?”

“Need...Jack,” he mutters.

Eric presses fingertips to temples and takes a breath before saying: “You should… You should come in.”

Eric gets him a glass of water and sticks it in Kent’s hands before sitting across from him in the kitchen. He watches as Kent downs it and sets the glass down, wetting his lips and taking a shaky breath. He scratches at his left arm every so often and he looks so fragile and scared that despite who he is, Bitty can’t help but feel some sympathy.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Kent groans and nods as he exhales laboriously, drumming his fingers against the table.

“I got into heroin a little while back. Right after, um, you know,” he says quickly, and Eric’s eyes widen. The situation is more serious than he had anticipated. “I was in a really low place, Bittle. I mean, I guess I am still. I just let myself slip, but then I thought about how I could affect my career and that was enough to make me wanna stop. It was really hard at first, I kept relapsing and shit...” Kent shudders and wipes at his face, still dewy and clammy.

“I think this might be it though, if I can make it through this I’ll be okay.”

“What are you doing in Boston?”

Kent blinks. “I never left.”

Eric takes a deep breath, feeling his lungs deflate slowly on the exhale. “Heroin, Kent? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

Kent glares at him. “I don’t need you to fucking judge me right now, Bittle. I fucked up, I know. Badly. But I’m trying to fix it.”

“Why did you come back here looking for Jack?”

“He was–” Kent’s voice breaks. “He was the only person I could think of to turn to.”

Kent’s voice then melts into silence, his hands turning the glass over and over. He can’t meet Eric’s gaze.

“You think I’m pathetic, right?”

Eric doesn’t respond. He sees a tear drip from Kent’s face onto the table and sighs.

“Eric, have you ever done something you wish you could undo? Like, you would give anything in the world to go back and try again?”

 _Yes_ , he wants to say. He doesn’t even open his mouth.

“Please, I just–”

“Stop. You can sleep here one night. I’ll try to keep it on the down low so the others don’t find out. But you’re out of here tomorrow morning, before Jack gets back. He never hears about this, understood?”

Eric can’t fight the sinking sensation of guilt that accompanies the situation. Kent is an awful person, and he's hurt both Eric and Jack in ways unforgivable, but Eric can’t just kick him out in this state.

“Where is he, by the way?”

“He’s apartment hunting in Rhode Island with his parents.”

“Why Rhode Island? That seems...oh,” he realizes softly. “Did he say yes to the Falconers?”

Eric stands up. “I’ve already said too much. You don’t deserve to know about anything that’s happening in his life.”

Kent stands up too, glaring and making an attempt to look threatening but only looking pathetic. His knees are shaking and all color seems to have drained from his body. His eyes are hazy gray, his blond hair seems more of a muted yellow. Kent moans and Eric can see him go a slight shade of green.

“One night, that’s all you get,” Eric says, a little more gently. “That’s all I can do for you, and you don’t even deserve that much, after what you did, what you said…” Eric shudders and turns away.

He can tell that Kent so badly wants to say something nasty in return, but all he can manage is a nod.

Kent ends up in Eric’s bed in an interesting turn of events. Bitty figures he can just sleep in Jack’s room for tonight; putting Kent in there would feel wrong. Eric makes sure he has a glass of water and a trash can, and he makes him some toast too because he isn’t really sure how to help someone going through a fucking heroin withdrawal. Not exactly a common occurrence for Eric Bittle.

Kent is silent around Eric after their initial conversation. He grunts in what may be thanks when Eric brings him food and water but says nothing.

Eric almost forgets that he has lemon bars in the oven downstairs through all of the drama. Luckily he pulls them out in time but feels even more frustrated, knowing that Kent is sleeping in his bed just a floor up. Out of impulse, he starts to bake a pie, the classic Bittle apple. He doesn’t use the new recipe that Jack helped him create, but that isn’t really a conscious decision. His brain is on autopilot until he hears the front door open. His heart stops beating and his hands freeze as he listens to the jingle of keys in the hallway.

“Jack?” he calls, not bothering to mask the desperation in his voice. There isn’t a response but when he turns to investigate he finds Jack standing in the doorway, his face tired and looking a little worn but just as breathtaking as ever.

Eric almost watches the scene from the perspective of an outsider as he crosses the kitchen and jumps into Jack’s arms. His legs hungrily wrap around Jack’s waist and fingers entwine themselves in his dark hair. Jack laughs in surprise as he returns the motion, arms secure around Bitty’s back. Their lips meet and it’s like the first time again, but something about it is even better than the first time. The constant cravings that have haunted his mind are being fulfilled, the ravenous hunger that’s been eating him from the inside out is being sated, all through another’s lips. Eric isn’t in control anymore, his mind is completely blank except for Jack’s name repeated a hundred times, a thousand times, sprawled across his skull and tucked within the folds of his brain.

“Missed me, eh?” Jack asks when Bitty pulls away to breathe. Eric can’t even speak, he just giggles and tucks his head into Jack’s shoulder and Jack slowly sets him back on his feet. Eric looks up at him, his dark hair speckled with gray from the flour that Bitty never brushed from his hands. He looks older, and Eric is hit with the thought of a future, middle-aged Jack. A Jack who has everything he needs and everything he wants, a Jack who is happy and no longer riddled with anxiety, a Jack who doesn’t need to refill the prescription of his meds or worry about the feeling of drowning and shaking hands. He can picture himself with Jack, too, and the thought leaves him without air to breathe.

He takes a step backward and gasps as his eyes fill with tears and Jack frowns in concern. “Bitty? Are you okay?”

He tries to blink the tears away but they keep coming when Jack doesn’t wait for an answer and pulls him in for a hug instead.

“I’m fine, I just...Yeah, Jack, I missed you,” he says, answering Jack’s earlier question as well, rhetorical as it had been.

“It was a long week,” Jack says gently. “I started feeling really anxious a couple days in. We found a really great place though, I can’t wait for you to come visit and see it.”

Bitty nods, the words only half registering in his mind. It’s still so hard to comprehend the fact that in just another week, Jack will be living somewhere else and the hellish week Bitty had to endure will be repeated over and over again. Jack is like a drug to him. He’s relapsing, and he refuses to acknowledge the inevitable cold turkey he’ll be eating in a week’s time.

He jumps when he hear another voice from the other kitchen doorway.

“Hey Bittle, I uh... just wanted some more water...” Kent says, his voice trailing off when he sees Jack.

Eric’s heart just about drops out of his chest and he pushes away from Jack as he turns toward Kent, frowns in disbelief, then glares back down at him.

“Bitty, what the fuck–”

“I can explain, I promise I can. Just give me a second?”

Jack shakes his head and scoffs. “I told you we’d never have to worry about this again—about _him_ again—and I come home to find him asking you for more water?”

“Jack, you just have to let me–”

“Stop, Bittle,” Kent says as he turns to Jack. “Zimms, this is...this is all my fault. Eric was just doing the right thing, I put him in an unfair position. I should go.”

“Kent, wait–” Eric starts.

“I should go,” he repeats forcefully but quietly, looking from Jack to Eric and back again. Jack looks down and away from him, and Kent sighs, defeated. He nods to Eric and turns, exiting the kitchen without another word. Jack turns away from Eric too, his face in his hands.

“Jack, he’s in the middle of withdrawal and he had nowhere else to go, I couldn’t just turn him away.”

“Withdrawal? From what?”

Eric looks at the floor. “Heroin,” he says in a small voice.

“Fuck,” Jack hisses. “What the fuck was he thinking?” he asks to nobody in particular. “What the fuck were _you_ thinking?” he then asks Eric.

Eric gapes for a second, his mouth open but no sound coming out. Jack is glaring at him, looking so hurt that Eric can’t even form words.

“After everything he’s done to us? After what he did to me, and what he did to you?”

“Jack, honey, I know that he’s done so much wrong, but what good would it do to treat him the same way he treated us?”

“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy, he doesn’t deserve to be in the same fucking room as you, Bitty.” Jack is rambling, pacing slightly and chewing at his nails angrily.

“Jack,” Bitty pleads, taking a cautious step forward. “why don’t we just go to bed and talk about this in the morning?”

Jack finally stops moving and his eyes meet Eric’s again. They look slightly crazed and Eric can see the exhaustion behind them.

“Let’s go to bed,” Eric repeats, hardly more than a whisper. The food in the oven is completely forgotten.

Jack just shakes his head and leaves the room, grabbing the bag he took to Rhode Island and climbing the stairs. Eric finds himself on the kitchen floor, his back pressed against the oven and his knees pressed to his chest. The heat almost burns his back but he can’t find the will to move. He wonders how such a seemingly simple love got so complicated, so quickly.

Eric thought that Jack coming back to Boston would mean he wouldn’t have to sleep alone anymore. When he finally gets upstairs and sees that a light is on in Jack’s room and the door is closed, he almost cries again. He’s too tired for tears now, though. He’s even too tired to regret. Too tired to feel anything but tired. He wishes he could find some comfort in the consistency of sleeping alone, like practice for what’s to come, but the knowledge that Jack is sleeping alone again, too, banishes any comfort. How long will he be mad? All they have is a week left together before everything changes, and Eric could never live with himself if they part this way.

Even when he isn’t trying, Kent Parson has somehow managed to fuck with Eric’s relationship with Jack. Any sympathy for Parse is gone; Eric is too busy feeling sorry for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! I know it's been a little while since the last update and I apologize for that, but I went on a vacation and it took me a little while to get back into the swing of things after that.  
> On to actual notes about the fic. I chose not to include any lyrics from the song in the actual text because I feel like a lot of them in this case can apply both to Jack and Kent, as well as the relationship between Jack+Bitty vs Jack+Kent. I tried to create some subtle parallels in this chapter that are noticeable but not blatantly obvious also :)  
> I actually wasn't at all sure how to go about this chapter until this morning, I've been stuck on it for a while now so it feels so good to have it written and posted!! The next 2 chapters should be easier because I have a much better idea about what I want for them. It's weird how close to the end we are ahh!!!  
> Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia  
> 18\. 90s Music // Kimbra  
> 19\. Run Away With Me // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 20\. What You Don't Do // Lianne La Havas  
> 21\. Favorite Color // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 22\. Hollow // Tori Kelly  
> 23\. Colors // Halsey


	24. i am small and needy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspired by: [Breathe Me by Sia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFGvmrJ5rjM)  
> TW: Brief mentions of non-con sexual acts

He finds himself knocking on the door to Jack’s room on Tuesday morning, even though he knows as it slowly swings open that Jack isn’t there. He peers into the room, still and illuminated, dust particles floating by the open window and the bed unmade. Empty. Jack is out running, and this time it feels like he might be running away.

Eric is about to close the door and start getting ready for work when he notices something on Jack’s bed, propped up against his pillows. He bites his lip and looks around, making sure he isn’t seen before slipping quietly into Jack’s room. He sits down on the bed—it’s warm from the rays of sun pouring in through the window.

Now that he’s closer, Bitty can see that the object is a photo album of sorts, a chunky and plain brown book. He wraps his fingers around the spine and runs his thumb up and down for a second, weighing his options. Jack is already mad at him, and if he catches Eric snooping that certainly won’t help that situation. But he misses him so much, and to feel like he’s connecting with any part of Jack is enough motivation to make him open it.

He gasps quietly when he sees the first page. There are two pictures there: both of him on the beach. One is the picture Jack asked to take of him, and the other must have been taken moments after. Eric’s back is to the camera, his hands are on his hips, and he’s looking out at the crystal blue water. The wind is ruffling his hair and he can almost smell the salty air again. Underneath the picture is a short caption that says: _What are you afraid of?_

With shaking hands he turns the page and finds that the next picture is of him sleeping, his face bruised and tear stained. There isn’t anything remotely creepy about the picture, he finds it endearing that Jack would think to capture that moment. This one is captioned: _I think he’s okay. I hope he’s okay._

His breath catches in his throat and he continues through the book. There’s a picture of him dozing in a kayak, the Zimmermanns’ cabin in the background. _You’re perfect._

Next, another of him sleeping, this time with a healthy face and in a different bed. _I think I might love you._

One of him in the kitchen of the cabin, baking next to Alicia. His eyes are crinkled up and his mouth is open in a laugh. _I think I love you. What if you don’t love me?_

Eric standing behind the counter at the bakery, smiling at a customer, unaware of the flour on his shirt and on his face. _I love you, Eric._

Finally, a darker picture. He squints at it for a second, then recognizes the background as the bed of Jack’s truck. The only light is from the candle and Eric’s eyes are closed, his mouth twisted into a gentle smile. _He loves me_.

The smile on his face mimics the one in the picture as he turns the page again, sad to remember that they haven’t had much time together since the night in the truck. He shakes his head at how endearingly sappy the book is, figuring the captions are what Jack’s thoughts were as he took the pictures.

When the door opens behind him, he jumps and shuts the book, turning around to see Jack frowning at him. He stands up and takes a step away from the bed.

“Jack, I’m sorry, I was–”

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Jack says quietly. His eyes are sad, not mad.

Bitty tries to respond but doesn’t know how.

“You weren’t supposed to see it yet.”

“Not _yet_?”

Jack sighs and passes Eric, taking his previous position on the edge of the bed. Jack places the book in his lap and starts to flip through it.

“I was gonna give it to you as a present on our anniversary. I know it’s silly, and a little weird, but...”

Eric shakes his head as he sits down next to him. “Jack, it’s sweet. And thoughtful. And the pictures are so beautiful.”

“Well of course you’d say that, they’re all of you.”

His heart does a little flip when he realizes that Jack is chirping him. Maybe things are okay. He presses a quick kiss to Jack’s temple and stands again.

“I’m sorry for being nosy,” Eric says.

Jack shrugs and one of the corners of his mouth quirks up. “It’s okay. By the time I give it to you, there’ll be more pictures anyway.”

Eric smiles down at him, hope blossoming in his chest again. “I have to get ready for work now, but we’ll talk later, okay?”

Jack nods and returns the smile. Eric hesitates for a second, his eyes still locked on Jack’s, then turns and hastens out of the room.

When he gets down to the kitchen, he finds that by a strange turn of events, all of the rest of his housemates are awake and about. Ransom and Holster are already drinking coffee, Shitty is rooting through the fridge and Lardo is at the stove. Eric raises an eyebrow at her when he approaches.

“What? You’re not the only one around here who can cook, Bits,” she says with a wink as she stirs scrambled eggs. Eric laughs; they both know damn well that scrambled eggs don’t really constitute “cooking” in his book.

“I’ll be out of your way in a sec, Shitty was just getting really impatient and I was afraid if he didn’t have eggs ASAP we’d be witnessing some spontaneous combustion.”

“Which would be fucking rad,” Ransom adds from the table. Shitty closes the fridge and thinks about it for a second, then nods in agreement.

“I think if I had to choose how to go out, randomly bursting into flames would be towards the top of the list.”

They all giggle and Eric starts to decide what he wants to eat when he hears from the hallway: “Bitty? I just realized I never really apologized and–” Jack stops his sentence when he turns the corner into the kitchen and sees everybody present. “Oh. I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”

“Apologize for what?” Shitty asks, wincing as Lardo elbows him in the side.

“Not our business,” she hisses.

“No, it’s okay,” Jack says. “Um, Eric do you wanna explain? I guess they should know anyway, eh?”

Eric sighs and sits down at the table, all eyes suddenly on him. He recounts the story of what happened when the two couples left for dinner and before Jack got back: how Parse showed up obviously in need so he let him in, gave him some food and water, and let him sleep in his bed. He explains that he didn’t think Jack would be back, and at this point Jack steps in.

“I kinda wanted it to be a surprise,” Jack mumbles. Eric chuckles and Shitty rolls his eyes.

“But anyway, when I got home all I wanted to do was see you, and then when Kent came out of nowhere I kinda...I lost my temper. So I’m sorry.”

Eric stands up and wraps his arms around Jack’s shoulders. “I forgive you,” he says before planting a kiss on Jack’s lips.

When he turns around Lardo is grinning and Shitty is rolling his eyes again, muttering under his breath about them being “so fucking sappy.”

Holster chides in with, “So you broke up with him and he started using heroin? Seems a little fucking intense if you ask me.”

“Yeah,” Ransom adds, “the guy’s obviously not stable. I think you did the right thing Bits, but I personally wouldn’t go near him.”

Lardo raises an eyebrow at that, which earns her a frown from both of them.

“What?” Holster asks.

“You’re lying to us,” she says casually.

They both frown and look at each other.

“What the fuck do you know?” Ransom asks.

“I know why Kent was still here in Boston and not back in Vegas. I now know that you’ve been keeping shit from us for your own personal gain. Oh, and I also know what both of your ‘O’ faces look like,” she shoots off.

Ransom chokes on a sip of coffee and Holster pats him on the back as he tries to stammer out another question.

“Look, we were all curious about what it actually is that you two do, so I Googled you!”

“Alright Lards, are you gonna fucking fill the rest of us in, or what?” Shitty asks impatiently.

“They’re camboys,” she says, again with piercing casualness, then takes a sip of coffee and watches the reactions around her. Bitty’s eyes widen and dart back and forth between the two boys, Shitty almost falls out of his chair, and Jack is frowning and looking very confused.

“What exactly does that mean?” he asks.

Eric is still in shock but he huffs out a single laugh as Lardo explains.

“They have sex on camera. For money. It isn’t quite like doing porn movies; they do live shows and stuff. I’ve never watched them live but they have an archive of all of their shows too. A whole lot of them are recorded right upstairs in Shitty’s room.”

Jack sits down and squeezes his eyes shut as he says, “What the fuck” under his breath. Shitty gags.

“Remember during Smashfest, when they said they were gonna mess with him? Apparently their idea of messing with Kent was getting him really drunk and including him in one of their shows, as fucked up as that is. I guess your audience really loved it, because Kent made a number of appearances after that. I assume you’ve been splitting the money with him, which he’s been spending on drugs. And you two _had_ to have known about that, because you’ve posted like three videos in the last couple of weeks with him. All of those happened in some hotel though, I think,” she says as a reassurance to Shitty.

The room is dead quiet for a few seconds. Then, finally, Shitty speaks.

“So you’ve been watching Rans and Holtz fuck all summer and you didn’t think to mention any of it to any of us?!”

She shrugs. “I didn’t think I had to. It was their business, and they weren’t really hurting anyone. Now though...”

“Jesus Christ, Lardo, how often do you check the website if you have all of these deets?” Shitty asks.

She frowns defensively. “It’s not like I was watching them to _get off_ or anything, I wasn’t even focused on the actual sex. Just the fact that you two have been fucking Kent Parson and enabling his drug use, essentially.”

Eric’s head is still swimming with the new information, and when he looks at the time on his phone he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“We didn’t think it was that serious, and he was getting us good money. We–” Holster starts, but can’t think of a good justification.

“I have to be at work y’all...” Eric says awkwardly, not exactly sure if he needs to stay for the rest of the conversation.

Ransom and Holster, still taken aback, are both staring at the table. Jack’s eyes are narrowed and curious, maybe trying to think back to all of the unexplained events recently that now have explanations.

“Go ahead, Bits,” Lardo says, “sorry we held you up. I know you’re not used to so many people in the kitchen in the morning.”

He nods and places a hand on Jack’s shoulder as he stands, still not quite grasping the implications of the situation. As he exits the kitchen, he hears Holster start to say, “I’m not sure how comfortable I feel knowing that you’ve seen my asshole,” and quickens his pace, stifling laughter as he runs out the door and down the steps of the front porch.

For whatever reason, the bakery is almost deserted. Tuesday mornings aren’t known for being busy or anything, but with how popular the bakery has been lately, Eric is surprised that the morning is so easy. There’s a rush at around lunchtime, which is to be expected, but after that things die down completely. Holly pulls Eric back into the kitchen later in the afternoon and sits him down at a counter.

“We have some...things to discuss,” she says, fidgeting slightly. Why does she seem nervous? “As you may have gathered by now, I’ve been doing some interviewing here and there. I just wanted to capitalize on all this good business, and having a few more employees around here would be a major help.”

“I agree. As much fun as it is working just the two of us, more hands would be greatly appreciated.”

She smiles a little awkwardly and continues. “Well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not just looking for new employees, I’m looking for someone to potentially replace you.”

He knits his eyebrows together and opens his mouth to speak but she cuts him off.

“Oh! Oh, no! It’s not at all what you’re thinking, Eric. I could never fire you, sugar!”

He laughs a little nervously, still not quite sure what she means by ‘potential replacement.’

“Alright, so,” she takes a deep breath, “you remember my sister who lives out West? One you made the birthday cake for a while back?”

He nods.

“She found a space out in California, right on the outskirts of San Francisco. I know that’s the opposite end of the country so it might seem strange to open up another bakery all the way out there, but that’s just the way small business works sometimes.”

“Oh gosh, Holly! This is amazing news!”

She smiles that awkward smile again. “I’m not quite done. You see, I really have to stay here in Boston and take care of this bakery. It’s like my child! I couldn’t just abandon it. And I have complete trust in you, and even though it would be a huge thing of me to ask–”

“Oh...Oh lord...You want me to move to California and run your bakery?”

“I’d make you co-owner. I can see that you’re in this for the long haul honey, and that deserves to be rewarded! She also said she’s found multiple small apartments within walking distance of the store. Everything is taken care of for you!”

He nods, a thousand thoughts swimming into his mind. He was just starting to feel comfortable in his home, he has an amazing group of friends who love and support him. He isn’t sure how he feels about the prospect of leaving it all behind. And then of course, he has Jack...

“Like I said, this is a big deal and I understand that you’re gonna need some time to think. And Eric, please don’t be afraid to say no if you really don’t wanna go. We already claimed the space and if it comes down to it, I can always hire somebody else to run things out West. I just thought it would be a good experience for you, and I trust that you can handle yourself.”

He absentmindedly pulls at his hair, nodding again. “I...Holly, I don’t know what to say. I’m so honored that you trust me that much, but California is–”

“I know sweetheart, it’s all the way on the other side of the country. And I know that things between you and Jack are finally going well, but also that he’ll be traveling around a lot as it is. So just...Why don’t you go home for now, okay? Just think it over. You don’t even have to give me a solid answer in the morning, I want you to take your time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he replies, still off kilter. He fumbles with the strings of his apron as he gets down off the stool, his chest tight and his breathing suddenly difficult.

Holly helps him untie the knot and cups his cheek. “Eric, are you okay? It isn’t a big deal if you wanna say no, sweetheart, but I figured I would give you the option. It really is your decision, and I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

He looks down and fiddles with the fabric of his shirt, trying to focus on taking deep breaths in. Holly pulls him into a hug and he sighs, wrapping his arms around her in return. She reminds him of his mother in so many ways. Moving away would mean being so far from both of them.

“Now go on home and relax. Don’t obsess over it or nothin’, just give it a little thought is all. Okay?”

“Okay.”

 

The house feels different—more distant—as he climbs the creaky porch steps and opens the door. It’s quiet now, the drama from earlier likely resolved. The familiar smell of his home loosens up the stress in his body just slightly.

He hears someone coming down the stairs as he shuts the door behind him, and when he turns back around he sees Jack standing on the landing, puzzled.

“Everything okay, Bits? You’re home early,” he says, looking at his watch. “ _Really_ early.”

Eric nods, deciding he won’t tell Jack right away. He needs to think about it himself first. “I’m fine, it was just a slow day and Holly knows that you’re leaving soon, so she sent me home early.”

Jack’s eyes light up as he comes down from the bottom stair and beckons Eric into the next room.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that!” He sits down on the couch and pats the empty space next to him; Eric can’t help but smile at how dorky and endearing he is. He sits and looks at Jack expectantly, waiting for him to start. Jack licks his lips and takes a deep breath.

“I want you to come with me,” he says plainly, obviously, as if it’s the only possible solution. Eric feels like he’s been sucker punched. “Jack, I–I,” he splutters before Jack cuts back in.

“Just listen for a second. I know you love working at Holly’s and she relies on you for a lot, but didn’t you mention that she was interviewing for more jobs?”

“Well yes, but–”

“So she won’t be left empty-handed if you leave! And she’ll understand too, don’t you think? If you have to move for other things in your life? There were so many bakeries in Providence, Bitty. You could find another job so easily there, and the apartment we picked out is so beautiful. Did I show you the kitchen yet? Here, let me–” Jack starts to reach into his pocket for his phone, but Eric stops him.

“Jack, honey...You know I can’t,” he says gently.

Jack sighs in frustration. “I know Eric, but I just feel like you haven’t considered all of your options.”

It was painfully obvious how much he wanted Eric to come with him, he was practically frantic in his justifications of the idea.

“I love you, Jack. You know how much I do. I just don’t think I’m ready to drop everything to come to Rhode Island with you.”

He opens his mouth to say something else but closes it and grimaces. “You’re right. I’m asking a lot, eh?”

Eric smiles. “Yeah, but I know it comes from a good place. I really wish things could be that way Jack, but...We’re not ready for that.”

“Well at least I know you’ll be right here if I ever need you.”

 _Fuck_. He’s going to have to tell him about Holly’s offer.

“Okay, so about that...” he starts. Jack raises an eyebrow as a prompt for him to go on. “Jack, Holly is opening up another bakery and she wants me to be the co-owner.”

His eyes light up again, the same way they had when he asked Eric to move in with him. “That’s fantastic! Where is it?”

Eric finds that he can’t meet Jack’s eyes. “It’s in San Francisco,” he says quietly.

“California?”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, shit...” Jack breathes.

“Jack, I don’t know what to do. She told me that I shouldn’t be afraid to tell her no, but if I did, I would be letting her down. She wants me there because she trusts me, and she knows it’ll be good for me. I think she’s right, and under any other circumstances I would be on board right away, but...”

“Yeah...” Jack says in agreement.

They sit in silence for a minute or so, both of them mulling over the idea. Jack’s words to Alicia echo in his mind: “ _I want him. He makes me feel safe, he makes me feel like I can do it.”_ How could he take that away from Jack? He feels responsible, like it’s his duty to be there now, so how could he be so selfish as to move across the country.

“You should take the job,” Jack finally says.

Eric frowns at him. “Jack...I don’t think I can. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, I just...I know getting back into hockey might be real hard on you, at least at first. I wanted to be able to be there for you if you needed me.”

He looks down and sees that Jack’s hands are gripping his knees, his knuckles white. “Jack?”

Jack’s blue eyes are glassy and unfocused and Bitty notices his breathing is a little erratic. “I fucked it up,” he mutters as a hand comes to his mouth and he starts to bite at his nails.

“Jack, honey, what are you talking about?”

“Everything’s wrong, this is all wrong. It isn’t supposed to be happening like this,” he cries, his voice shaky and panicked. Eric goes to gently grab one of his hands but Jack jerks away.

_Help I have done it again_

_I have been here many times before_

_Hurt myself again today and the worst part is there's no one else to blame_

“I–I can’t do this, I can’t do it.”

His breathing is fast and shallow now and Eric isn’t sure what to do. Normally just holding his hand is enough to bring him back down, but Jack won’t let him do even that.

“I rushed everything, it happened too fast...It’s all wrong, _it’s all wrong!”_ he shouts through gritted teeth, bringing his hand down to his knee with a thump.

“It’s okay, Jack, look at me, it’s okay.”

Jack shakes his head and shifts away from Eric on the couch, his tears falling and leaving dark circles on the fabric. Eric is crying too and he fights the urge to move closer to Jack, waits for him to calm down slightly. He’s stopped talking now, the words are replaced by sobs and gasping breaths.

Instead of touching him, Eric just looks him in the eyes and starts to breathe deeply, visibly. He sucks in a loud breath and allows his shoulders to rise, then lets them fall as he releases the air. Jack nods after a few breaths, understanding, and starts to try the breathing pattern himself. After just a few breaths, Eric can see that his panic level is rapidly coming down. Once most of the attack has passed, Jack collapses in Bitty’s lap and grips his shirt.

_Be my friend, hold me_

_Wrap me up, unfold me_

_I am small and needy_

_Warm me up and breathe me_

“Eric, I’m so sorry,” he says through sobs.

“About what sweetheart?”

Jack looks up at him. “I...I can’t do it...”

 _Ouch_ _  
_ _I have lost myself again_ _  
_ _Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found_ _  
_ _Yeah I think that I might break_   
_Lost myself again and I feel unsafe_

 

He’s still wiping away at tears when he pushes open the door of the bakery. It’s still completely empty and Holly is nowhere to be seen. He hears her call, “I’ll be out in a hot second!” from back in the kitchen and starts to approach the counter.

She comes out from the back and stops suddenly upon seeing Bitty, eyes and face red from crying.

“Oh lord, honey, what’s the matter?” she asks, a worried frown on her face as she comes out from behind the register.

“How soon would you need me to leave?” he asks, his voice heavy with grief.

Somehow, Holly must have an understanding of what happened because the worry turns into sympathy and understanding. She pulls Eric into her arms and sighs, rubbing circles on his back as he cries himself out.

“It’s all gonna work out somehow darling, I know it will...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH, only one more chapter to go!! So quick little notes and whatnot. I will be going through the entire work sometime soon (before Chapter 25 is posted) and doing like a mass edit. That'll include changing the tense of the first couple of chapters to match the rest of the story, general spelling and grammar stuff, changing sentence structure/wording/etc., and also making sure I actually feel like the plot is continuous and cohesive and whatnot. So that's gonna be a lot of work as well. _[All of these aforementioned edits were finalized 5/21]_  
>  Anyway I just want to give a quick thanks for everybody who's been following along and painfully awaiting the updates, especially lately when I haven't had as much time or energy as I did in the beginning of writing this (lol senior year of high school is a tough one y'all). So yeah! Enjoy this chapter. And I'm sorry. But not really. I really hope the crushing emotion comes through in the way I wrote this haha :) <3
> 
> (AND ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERIC BITTLE I LOVE U MY SON [this chapter was written mostly on may 5 but posted after midnight so])


	25. take me back to the start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter inspired by: [The Scientist by the Glee Cast ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmHvLCbcwtw)  
> [please don't chirp me for using the Glee version I just really like the key change and the fact that it's a series of duets]
> 
>  **Important Note** : For those of you who have been following along all this time, first of all thank you for your support through this big, gay journey! Second, the reason it took me so long to get this final chapter up is I was getting this fic beta'd by the wonderful [Jenrose](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenrose/pseuds/Jenrose). That said, I highly suggest going back and reading the first 24 chapters again before finishing this one. It isn't necessary I guess, the ending will still make sense with what you've read, but the whole fic is much more polished now!! There are a lot of minor changes, as well as unification of little details that I just feel make the fic come to life. The scene with Kent in chapter 17 has been changed significantly, for example. There are also a few little hints about R+H scattered throughout, etc. If you started reading this fic on May 21 or later, this note doesn't apply because that's when everything was updated! Again, sorry for the wait between chapters, and thank y'all so much for reading ;-;

“ _California?!_ Dicky, this is… I don’t know what to say.”

He sighs into the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. He’s folding some clothes into a suitcase.

“Mama, I know it’s a long way to go. But you said the same thing about Boston, remember?”

“I suppose you’re right, but—”

“And this is a big deal! She’s making me co-owner of her bakery!”

There’s a pause. Then, “I’m proud of you, Dicky. _I am_. It’s just something I need to process.”

“I’m sorry that this is so hard on you, mama. I know I’ve been every which way lately, and it can be hard to keep up with that.”

She laughs. “Just a bit, honey. You’re an adult though. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you not to go.”

“So, you’re ok with it then?”

“Of course!” she says, sounding offended. “Like I said, I’m extremely proud of you! I know how important this is. It’s just gonna take your mama some time to get used to you being so far away. Again.”

He smiles. “I’ll call more often once I’m there,” he supplies.

“ _You_ said the same thing about Boston!” she laughs.

“But that was college! I was busy with schoolwork and...things.”

“And you’ll be busy running a bakery this time around! I _would_ appreciate if you tried to call more often, but I also know that I can’t be there for every little part of your life.”

“Thanks, Mama. I promise I really will try. I love you,” he says, zipping up the suitcase and sitting on the bed.

“I love you too, honey.”

He falls backward, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

“Did you say something about having your own news?” he asks.

She gasps. “Oh, that’s right! Your father’s back home!”

He’s sitting up again. “Oh! Good. Has he, um… Has he talked to you about anything? When did he get back?” He says _get back_ as if his father had been on some kind of vacation, as opposed to having abandoned his wife.

“He got back the night before last. We haven’t spoken much, but he did apologize for disappearing the way he did.”

He isn’t really sure what to say. He settles on, “That’s good news.” He just wants his mother to be happy.

“Alright, well don’t let me keep ya! You said you’re leaving when?”

“Monday, Mama,” he reminds her. It’s already been two days since his conversation with Jack. Four days until his life makes yet another sharp turn.

“You and your little friends doin’ anything to celebrate?”

They’re planning to have a small party on Sunday night, just as a way to get together and say goodbye officially.

“Yeah, just a little get together. Nothing special.”

“And how about Jack?” She pauses after saying his name, realizing she might be broaching a touchy subject. “How is he taking things?”

Eric sighs and flops backwards again. “Not well. I don’t blame him though, this all came out of nowhere. I’m not—” His voice catches. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m not entirely sure where I stand with him, actually. He was already stressed about moving to Providence, and that was before he knew I would be on the opposite end of the country.”

A pause. She’s probably trying to think of what to say. “So… Does this mean that you’re broken up?”

He shrugs, then sighs when he remembers she can’t actually see him. “I really don’t know. Before, it was a definite no. We were gonna try to work things out with him being in Providence and all. But he had a panic attack when he suggested I take the job, so I don’t know if it’s gonna be good for him to try to maintain it, you know?”

“But will it be worse for him to break it off?”

He frowns. He hadn’t really thought about that, oddly enough.

“I don’t know if it would be a good idea to add such a stressful ingredient into his mix, Mama.”

She sighs. “But do _you_ want to try still? Would you be ok with just letting it go? I don’t know the full extent of your relationship, obviously, but when I came up there just a little while back things seemed...serious.”

“It isn’t just about me. I need to do what’s gonna be good for him. What would be the point of convincing him to give it a shot if I know it’s only gonna be detrimental for him?”

Another sigh. “But what about what’s good for you, Dicky? I’m worried you aren’t thinking about yourself enough.”

“What’s good for him is what’s good for me,” he replies.

Lardo knocks quietly on the door, poking her head into Eric’s room.

Eric holds up a finger and says into the phone, “Mama, I’ll talk to you soon okay? Before the flight, and again when I touch down.”

“Alright honey, I’ll talk to you soon, then. Enjoy your last couple of days on the East Coast. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he sighs, hanging up the phone.

“Problem?” Lardo asks as she joins Eric on the bed.

“Not really. She asked about Jack.”

“Ah. Right. What exactly _is_ going on there, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He shrugs. “The last thing he said to me was ‘I can’t do it.’ I don’t know if he was referring to the hockey or the relationship. Or maybe both? I wouldn’t know, because he won’t talk to me.”

Lardo puts a comforting hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Yeah, he’s not talking to anybody. It’s like he’s gone back to being that Jack from the beginning of the summer. I don’t even think he’s been going on runs.”

“I’m worried about him, Lardo.”

“I think you need to worry about yourself, Eric.”

He groans. “That’s what my Mama said.”

“Your Mama is a smart lady. Think about it this way: even if you leave, Jack still has Shitty, Ransom, Holster, and me. Who do you have? Yourself? I think if there’s one thing you should take away from this summer, it’s that you need to start relying on other people for help. Not all the time, but damn it, Bitty, it’s ok to lean on your friends.” Lardo’s voice wavers.

Eric frowns. Her eyes are wet. “Lardo? Are you crying?”

She wipes away a tear. “Yes. Fuck.”

Eric gives her a moment, then asks, “Why are you upset?”

“Because you’re fucking leaving! I get, what? Three months with you? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? It’s like… The universe brought this house an amazing new addition, and now it’s ripping you right back. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you’re already packing. It just—” Her sentence is interrupted by a sob. “It feels like you’re gone already.”

Eric hugs Lardo. There are fat, hot teardrops falling onto his shoulder and he lets Lardo cry herself out, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. When she pulls away her eyes are red and puffy, her face wet.

“Fuck, Bits. You’ve been so chill these last couple days,” she says, sniffling. “It’s not like that fake chill from earlier in the summer though, you know what I mean? When you were only pretending because you didn’t want us to be worried? You seem...zen.”

He shrugs. “I think I still haven’t really processed everything. None of it feels real. The last time I can even remember something that _did_ was when I was with Jack in Canada. Everything since then has felt… I don’t know. Like a dream I guess. And not all in a good way.”

She nods, wiping her face.

“Besides, I’m all cried out at the moment. But I’m sure Monday’ll be a different story.”

Another tear makes its way out of her eye. “Stop doing that! As far as I’m concerned, you leaving isn’t real until it’s happening. We’re gonna spend all our time together this weekend, because I don’t know when we’re even gonna get to see each other again.”

He nods and hugs her again. “I suppose now would be a bad time to say thank you for being my friend and making me see my self-worth?”

She punches his shoulder once he pulls away, but she laughs anyway. “Yeah, none of that shit yet. You can launch a two-hour speech at me in a couple days, but let’s hold off on that for now.”

He chuckles. “Fine. I’m still gonna tell you that I love you, though.”

She rolls her eyes. “I guess that’s allowed. I love you too, Bits. I know you’re gonna be amazing out there; this is what you were meant to do.”

“Thanks, Lardo.”

 

There’s something so docile about Eric’s inner turmoil. The initial storm has passed. The tears, the agony. He’s fairly certain all of that is behind him. Now, he’s dealing with the numbness that follows. The streets littered with branches, the flooded basements, the fallen electrical wires. Every time he thinks about Jack, it feels like one of those wires has fallen right onto him. It’s a brief jolt, a momentary shot of emotion that makes his head spin.

Thinking back to a week ago, two weeks ago, a month ago, Eric almost cries again. The progression from pining to passionate, fiery love was so fast. Too fast. Instead of smoldering steady, their relationship burnt out like a parched bush. Jack blames himself, Eric already knows that much, but he certainly doesn’t. Eric didn’t have a clue what he was doing the entire time. Thinking back, going to Montreal with Jack might have been a mistake. That night in the back of his truck might have been a mistake. Waiting so long, letting himself yearn and hunger, was a mistake.

Like Lardo said, Eric wants to use the summer as a learning experience. He wants to grow from those mistakes. Mistakes he didn’t get to make as a naive teenager. He gets to start yet another chapter in his life. Not everybody gets that opportunity.

Then again, he’s not entirely sure he _wants_ a new chapter. Until the end, there was nothing wrong with this one. He loves his friends, he loves Jack. _Fuck_ , he loves Jack so much. What’s the point of turning the page if Jack’s name isn’t written on the next?

 

Shitty pulls Eric into the kitchen on Sunday night. He isn’t drunk yet, but he’s well on his way. They’re surrounded by at least a dozen cooling pies. Eric spent the weekend attempting to teach Shitty and Lardo how to make pie. Shitty gave up two pies into Saturday; Lardo was pretty confident in herself by Sunday afternoon.

“Okay, brah, I wanted to get everything out there now. Because in about an hour I’m gonna be too schwasted to remember your name, and tomorrow morning I’m gonna be too hungover to say anything meaningful. So here goes.”

“I’m gonna stop you, Shits,” Eric says.

Shitty frowns and plunks his beer down on the counter. “What the fuck?”

“No, you can say what you need to! But can I go first?”

Shitty picks the beer back up. “Oh. Sure, Bits.”

Eric takes a deep breath, trying to loosen the knot in his chest. “I want to thank you for putting out that ad so many months ago, and making me feel at home so fast. You were the one who really persuaded me to give things a try with Jack. You always had my back, whether I needed to cry or scream at you about how cute he is. I know I was a pain at times—”

Shitty protests but Eric continues, “No, I was a pain! Admit it! I kept closing myself off and selling myself short. You taught me how to open up, and… Is there an opposite of selling yourself short?”

“I would say buying yourself tall, but I don’t think that can apply to you,” Shitty says with a wink.

Eric slaps his shoulder. “No height chirps in the middle of my big speech!”

Shitty holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, continue!”

“Dang it, I lost my train of thought.”

“I believe you were telling me about how awesome I am?”

He rolls his eyes. When he looks back at Shitty, his eyes are misty.

“Oh no, don’t you lose it on me, too.”

He doesn’t get to say anything else; Shitty’s arms are around his shoulders in a bone-crushing hug. He chuckles and returns the hug.

Shitty cries into his shoulder, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Bits. You’ve come a long way in one summer. I’m really gonna miss you. Bitty fucking Bittle, are you giggling right now?”

“I’m sorry! Your mustache was tickling my neck.”

Shitty laughs and wipes at his eyes.

“I’m gonna miss you, too. If someone ever sues me for a baked good gone wrong, I’ll be sure to give you a call,” Eric jokes.

Jack comes into the kitchen, stopping awkwardly in front of them. “Oh. Sorry, I just wanted some water.”

Eric looks up at him, desperate to catch his eye. Jack won’t look at him. He can’t. He fills up a cup and exits the kitchen.

Shitty sighs, still drying his eyes. “He’s gonna talk to you, Eric. He can’t _not_. You’re both leaving tomorrow, and he’s not gonna leave without saying goodbye.”

“I know. I’m trying not to be mad about it, but I can’t take him avoiding me like this. It feels too much like...”

“Like how he dealt with Kent?” Shitty finishes.

Eric bites the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. I guess that’s it.”

“Well, we should probably get back out there and join the party. Drunk Cards Against Humanity is about to start!”

 

It’s hard to imagine that starting at this moment, he no longer lives in this house. Eric is standing on the lawn, looking up at his bedroom window. There’s movement every so often from the room next door. Jack is packing his things, too.

All of Eric’s luggage is packed into the back of Holly’s car. Lardo, Shitty, Ransom, and Holster all woke up early so they could send him off. His stomach is in knots, he’s jittery from too much coffee, and he can feel his heart being torn in two different directions. He belongs here now, it’s his home. He had never taken the time to appreciate the peeling paint, the underkept lawn, or the cracked stone path. He needs more time here. He isn’t done.

Lardo has given him approximately 67 hugs. Shitty’s burst into tears three times, at least. Ransom and Holster keep looking at him like he’s dead, not moving.

Now, they’re all lined up in front of Holly’s car, none of them really sure how to start the final goodbyes. Eric starts by giving them all hugs, because words are failing him.

“Bro, you better send us some fucking pies now and then,” Ransom says.

“Yeah,” Holster agrees. He lowers his voice, “And if you’re ever in need of some quick cash—”

“ _Holster_ ,” Lardo warns.

“Okay, okay, I was just joking!”

Shitty can’t say anything either. His eyes are puffy and he’s sporting some dark circles, though if that’s from too much crying or too much alcohol the previous night, Eric can’t be sure.

“I love you so, so much Bits,” Lardo says. “Make sure you text us every day. _Every day_ , you hear me? And try to Skype me as often as you can. Um. Don’t burn yourself too often—oh who am I kidding, it’s you we’re talking about, you’d never burn yourself. Just… Be safe, Eric, okay? And don’t be afraid to let us or Holly know if you’re feeling overwhelmed. We're still here for you.”

He wants to chirp her for going into Mom Friend Mode, but he’d be lying if he said he isn’t grateful for it. He gives her an extra hug, then looks back up at the house.

Holly says, “Honey, we have to leave soon if we wanna make the flight.”

He nods and looks at the front door. The motion in the window’s briefly stopped.

“He’s… He’s not gonna say goodbye, is he?” Eric’s voice breaks and Lardo puts a hand on his back.

“Go in there, kiddo. Let him know that this is really it. It’s his last chance.”

 

“Jack? Jack, are you down here?” Eric calls. The house feels deserted. He gets no response, so he climbs the stairs. He approaches Jack’s room at the end of the hallway, thinking back to his first day in the house. Shitty’s tour. His first impression of Jack as grumpy and closed off. He doesn’t want that to be his last impression, too.

He knocks on the door gently. The noise from inside stops for a second, then continues. Eric sighs as he pushes the door open.

_Come up to meet you, tell you I’m sorry_

_You don’t know how lovely you are_

Jack is walking back and forth from his closet to his bed, grabbing articles of clothing one at a time and folding them hastily before stuffing them in his suitcase. Eric steps into the room, waiting for Jack to stop. To look at him. To do anything. He doesn’t.

“J-Jack? I’m about to leave, honey,” he says gently.

Jack flinches at _honey_ but continues to pack frantically.

“Did you hear me? I’m about to leave,” Eric repeats more forcefully.

Still, Jack won’t turn around and face him.

_I had to find you_

_Tell you I need you_

_Tell you I set you apart_

“I just thought maybe you’d want to talk one last time before I… I still have a few minutes. We could talk, we _should_ talk,” Eric says desperately. He was wrong about being cried out, because tear drops are hitting the floor next to his shoes.

“ _Jack_ ,” he says, raising his voice a bit.

Nothing.

“ _Jack_ ,” he repeats, the name catching in his throat.

Jack pauses for a second, looking down at the red shirt in his hands. Eric’s mind is screaming at him to do something as Jack carefully folds that damn red shirt and places it in with the rest of his clothes. Still, he says nothing.

_Tell me your secrets_

_And ask me your questions_

_Oh, let’s go back to the start_

Eric rushes forward, his emotions getting the better of him.

“Why won’t you talk to me, damn it?!” he shouts, grabbing Jack’s arm.

Jack whips around forcefully but Eric maintains his grip. Jack’s face is soaked in tears, and the blue of his eyes still catches Eric off guard. “I don’t fucking know how to do this, okay? It doesn’t feel right. I’m not supposed to be breaking up with you right now, I’m not supposed to be leaving for Providence. We’re supposed to stay here in this fucking white house and be happy. Because here we are, and I still love you. But that doesn’t mean shit, because tomorrow you’ll be in California.”

_Running in circles_

_Coming up tails_

_Heads on a science apart_

Eric shakes his head, softening his grip on Jack’s arm. “As much as I want that for us, we have to accept that it isn’t happening. The reality, Jack, is that I love you too, but for now… I think for now we have to say goodbye. For both of our sakes.”

Jack pulls away, a sob escaping his lips. “Fuck,” he croaks, too heavy with emotion to stand anymore. He sits down on the bed heavily, one hand covering his face and the other beside him, steadying him.

_Nobody said it was easy_

_It's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_No one ever said it would be this hard_

 

_Oh, take me back to the start_

Eric kneels down in front of him, carefully resting his hands on Jack’s knees. “I don’t know how to do this either. In fact, I didn’t know what I was doing this entire time. But we need to try.”

_I was just guessing_

_At numbers and figures_

_Pulling the puzzles apart_

 

_Questions of science_

_Science and progress_

_Do not speak as loud as my heart_

Jack’s body is shaking and Eric’s vision is distorted from the tears that won’t seem to stop.

“Jack, honey, look at me. Maybe someday, we can try this again. Did you ever think of that?”

Jack is having trouble forming words. He takes a gasping breath and says, “How can you know we’ll have another chance?”

_Tell me you love me_

_Come back and haunt me_

_Oh, and I rush to the start_

 

_Running in circles_

_Chasing our tails_

_Coming back as we are_

“Because until we do, I don’t think I’ll be able to love somebody else. You were my first love, Jack. It’s not going to be easy to forget this. I don’t _want_ to forget it, but I guess it doesn’t matter what I want. I won’t forget it no matter what I do. I shared something with you that I’ve never shared with anybody, Jack. It’s not as simple as forgetting,” Eric says through tears.

Jack folds over his legs, resting his forehead on Eric’s. “I wish we could go back to the beginning, Eric. I want to start over. I want Kent gone sooner, I want us together sooner.”

Eric gently grabs his face, tilting it so it’s looking directly into his. “We can’t focus on the past, baby. I’ve never been so sure of something in my damn life, Jack Zimmermann. This isn’t the end for us.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Well, I am.”

_Nobody said it was easy_

_Oh it's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_No one ever said it would be so hard_

 

_I'm going back to the start_

Jack pauses. Eric has never looked into his eyes so intently, he’s never been able to look into Jack’s eyes and see himself. Jack squeezes his lids shut, forcing out more tears and cursing under his breath.

Eric cups his cheek and presses his lips against Jack’s, ignoring the fact that he’s crying all over Jack’s face and the kiss tastes like tears. They pull away and Jack closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Eric’s again.

“I don’t think I can do it without you, Eric.”

“I believe in you, Jack. You can, and you will.”

 

His friends are sitting in the kitchen when he descends the stairs. They’ve said their goodbyes, though. He doesn’t think he can handle doing them again.

He quietly slips past them and out of the house, trying to savor the creak of the porch stairs under his feet, wishing he could somehow take it... Take it all with him. He hasn’t stopped crying, and when Holly pulls him into a hug, the tears only flow stronger.

She doesn’t say anything as she opens the passenger door and helps him in. He wipes his face on the sleeve of his shirt and tries not to sob as Holly starts the car and pulls away from the curb.

Eric Bittle is so sure of one thing as he watches the little white house retreat into the distance, more sure than he's ever been of anything in his 22 years: he fell for the right boy at the wrong damn time.

_**TO BE CONTINUED** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna say another thanks to everybody for reading, and thanks to those who have been cheering me on throughout this process. This fic is legitimately the longest thing I've ever written and I'm so proud of the finished product! I hope you enjoyed it and as stated above, this is a TBC, there will be a sequel (an Act 2, if you will)!! Eventually. It's gonna take me some time to plan and write of course, and I think I'll go about posting the sequel in a different way (e.g. I'm not gonna write a chapter then post it, I'll finish the whole thing, have it beta'd, then post on a schedule.) The playlist is below; all 25 songs listed in order for your convenience.  
> Feel free to write spin-offs, make fanart, etc, and send them all to me so I can cry with you!! Also, please scream at me in the comments or on my [Tumblr](http://bittlebunny.tumblr.com), because I love hearing from readers!!

**Author's Note:**

> [HERE](http://8tracks.com/sarzipanbatch/it-s-all-too-sweet-to-last) is a link to an 8tracks playlist of all the White Houses music, made by Tumblr user [sarzipanbatch](http://sarzipanbatch.tumblr.com)
> 
> Chapter by Chapter Playlist:  
> 1\. White Houses // Vanessa Carlton  
> 2\. Dear No One // Tori Kelly  
> 3\. Gravity // Sara Bareilles  
> 4\. I Am Not a Robot // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 5\. Daydreamin' // Ariana Grande  
> 6\. About the Boy // Little Mix  
> 7\. Toxic // Britney Spears  
> 8\. Keep Breathing // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 9\. I Wanna Dance With Somebody // Whitney Houston  
> 10\. Weeds // Marina and the Diamonds  
> 11\. Once Was Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 12\. The Night is Still Young // Nicki Minaj  
> 13\. Sunday Morning // Maroon 5  
> 14\. Folding Chair // Regina Spektor  
> 15\. Heart Out // The 1975  
> 16\. Can't Help Falling In Love // Ingrid Michaelson  
> 17\. Fire Meet Gasoline // Sia  
> 18\. 90s Music // Kimbra  
> 19\. Run Away With Me // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 20\. What You Don't Do // Lianne La Havas  
> 21\. Favorite Color // Carly Rae Jepsen  
> 22\. Hollow // Tori Kelly  
> 23\. Colors // Halsey  
> 24\. Breathe Me // Sia  
> 25\. The Scientist // Coldplay [Glee Cast Version]


End file.
